


Strange New Frontiers: First Contact

by intothecest



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alien Cultural Differences, Aliens, Anxiety, Anxiety Disorder, Brother-Sister Relationships, Brother/Sister Incest, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fandom Allusions & Cliches & References, First Contact, Flashbacks, Geeks, Incest, Nerdiness, No Smut, POV Alternating, Protective Older Brothers, Sibling Incest, Siblings, Star Trek Fans, Star Trek References, Trek Fandom Adjacent, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, trekkers, trekkies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2020-11-23 14:21:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 49,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20893505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intothecest/pseuds/intothecest
Summary: A pair of geeky teen siblings have been living and breathing Star Trek and dreaming of going to space since they were little... and when a Federation-like group of aliens finally contacts Earth, it looks like their dreams might finally have a chance.  Unfortunately, the aliens aren't what they expected, and feel humanity has a long way to go before they're ready to step out into the universe. There may yet be one route to the stars, but it's a risky plan and will require working together in ways they'd scarcely imagined.





	1. Distant Origin

After four hours on a bus, Cheryl was more ready than ever to start a new life in the stars. Not that she didn't still have huge reservations about taking this particular step towards them, but it felt like this trip--a long stretch of being wedged in an uncomfortable seat, having no real control of where she was going, all while suffering from both boredom and a heightened level of anxiety about everyone around them--built up the pressure on her desire to be anywhere else, somewhere she could feel comfortable and establish some kind of routine. Right now, as crazy as it would have sounded to her even months ago, the stars now seemed to be her best option. 

She couldn't see them in the morning light, but she was relieved, a tiny bit, when she realized she could at least see the outskirts of the city, which gave her some hope the ride was almost over. More importantly, at last she had something to do besides sit and worry... now, she could look through the window, hoping for sight of the tower through some gap in the streets. The sunglasses she was wearing weren't prescription, but that didn't stop her from trying... it might be just be a white blur at this distance, but at least it would finally be a white blur she was seeing with her own eyes. 

Luck wasn't with her... either the angles were wrong or her eyes were worse than she thought and it was just too far away to see, but at least trying occupied her mind... for while. When she got too frustrated at failing to see anything, it was back to the usual routine, jumping back and forth between staying as still as possible, pretending to read or sleep or listen to music, and trying not to draw any attention to herself, to fidgeting with her hair or clothes, to actively looking around at the nearby passengers she could see clearly. Brief glances, full of worry that doing so might cause them to look back, but she couldn't help it. She was constantly checking for signs that they knew who they were and where they were going and why, and were about to make some kind of fuss. The fact that they all always looked absorbed with their own lives was only brief comfort, liable to vanish at any moment, and so sometimes, to reassure herself, she looked to her brother.

He was asleep. Of course. But that was a kind of reassurance... Justin being comfortable enough to sleep helped convince Cheryl that her anxieties were baseless. Of course, that didn't mean they really were safe, since it seemed like her brother could sleep through anything, but at least it felt that way. Justin's head lolled back, uncomfortably, maybe even considerately. Earlier, he'd offered his own shoulder if she needed to nap, since they'd had to wake up ridiculously early to catch the bus. Despite her tiredness from being awake most of the night, Cheryl was too keyed up to sleep, then or now, but her brother still seemed to be leaving the option open, even unconsciously. She watched him a while, at first wondering if she should awaken him but then with interest at how different he looked now. With his own dark glasses and the ridiculous fake beard he wore, at her request, until they reached the tower, she could almost imagine he was somebody else entirely. Almost. 

The bus took a longer, steeper turn than they'd been used to, and things suddenly went dark as it descended into a tunnel. Justin's head jerked and he sat up straight. "What's happening?" he mumbled.

Cheryl looked out the window and announced in a whisper, "I think we're pulling in to the terminal." 

"Good." He rubbed his neck. "I was dreaming that..." He looked in her direction, then squinted and shook his head. "Never mind... can't really remember anymore. Something about aliens, I think. You get any sleep?"

Her response was a derisive laugh. She couldn't relax enough to sleep, or do more than stare at an open page and pretend to read, and was even too nervous to listen to music, lest she miss the warning signs of whispering, in the event somebody realized who they were. She couldn't help it, even telling herself it was a ridiculous concern... they made the news but were hardly top ten fugitives. They'd only been recognized once since they left their hometown, or at least only called on it once... it's possible some people guessed who they were and, despite what they were supposed to have done, were discreet enough not to mention it. Still, that memory of that woman yelling at her brother shook her. _We should never have done this,_ she told herself. And yet, despite the thought, she didn't really believe it, answered it immediately with, _it had to be done, it was the only way_  
.  
The bus jerked to a stop, and every passenger seemed to get up at once, needing to stretch their legs or meet loved ones or otherwise get on the next stage of their journey. Since Cheryl had the window seat, her brother got up first, slung his backpack over a shoulder, then offered his hand. She took it and her legs, despite protesting the cramped conditions, protested again at being forced to move, but only for a moment. Neither of them spoke, and Cheryl kept her head down, hiding behind her hoodie and sunglasses.

After they exited the bus, and the crowd had dispersed some, they stopped for a moment in a quiet spot in the terminal. She realized then she'd been holding his hand the whole time... they'd gotten used to that, which was good, in its way, but now that she was aware, she pulled away, using the movement to tug at the straps of her own heavy pack. Justin also backed away a step, nodded towards a sign on the wall and asked, "I need to hit the restroom, and maybe grab a sandwich or something. You want anything?" 

"No, I'm fine," she answered, her gaze still darting about, to look in every direction regularly, although, mostly in one particular direction, even though there were too many buildings in the way. 

"We've got enough in the budget for a meal and still have enough for a taxi. I mean, if all goes well, we're not going to be using it on anything else after this." She shook her head, repeating the thought, _if all goes well._ "Okay. I'll just be a minute." 

"Yeah. I need to go too. We'll meet back here after?"

He wasn't there when she got back, but she assumed he was after his food, and her eyes scanned across the terminal until she found him, talking to what looked like one of the custodial staff. Her stomach clenched for a moment, then relaxed as she realized he wasn't being confronted, but rather was having what looked like a pleasant conversation, getting directions most likely.

She envied him that, his ease with people he didn't know. Truly, he was the one who was made to go out into space and socialize with aliens. He was a natural, and could make friends halfway around the world and so why not worlds away, too... Cheryl wanted to travel to other planets more than almost anything, but she wasn't especially good interacting with humans, unless she'd known them a while, and some part of her was sure extra-terrestrials would only be harder. On the other hand, at least then she'd have an _excuse_ for feeling a bit like an alien among them. 

Justin finished up his conversation with a smile and nod of his head, then turned and headed back in her direction. He did have two shrink-wrapped bundled in his hand, and two bottles of water tucked under his arm, and when they reunited passed one of each her way. "Here. I got you a turkey sandwich, just in case. Was going to go for the tuna salad, but I don't know, I'm sure if it wasn't fine they wouldn't sell it, but I don't trust mayo on prepackaged sandwiches." She took the sandwich, realized she really was hungrier than she thought, and began to unwrap it. "No, let's find somewhere better. Come on." 

He led, and she followed, though after a few seconds she asked, "Where are we going? They have taxis right there."

"Trust me." She did, of course... they'd hardly be doing this if she didn't. But she gave him a skeptical look anyway, and a sigh to let him know she was indulging him, and let him lead her up a stairway which led outside to a pedestrian walkway over the street, which they started to cross. About halfway through, he stopped, looked, and pointed. "There it is." He turned back to her, then looked back. "Put your normal glasses on."

She took the sunglasses off, and fished her normal, light purple-framed ones from her pocket. Buildings and other distant details sharpened immediately, including a shimmering white pillar in the distance. "We didn't have to stop a look," she said, although she was incredibly pleased they did, that he'd obviously stopped to ask someone a good place. "We're going there anyway." _If things went well._

"Please, I _know_ what you're like." Justin said. He began to peel the fake beard from his face, looking more like himself again, although not completely... the time on the road had allowed some real stubble to grow in underneath. She could hardly blame him for removing the disguise... she knew itching had been driving him crazy for hours, even while he was sleeping. It only made sense that he didn't want to eat with it on, either. While the move sparked fresh fears that they would be recognized, they were far enough away from home that it didn't seem like a big risk. The beginnings of a real beard was actually a good look for him, she decided. It had filled in since the last time he tried it, making him look a little closer to Ryan Gosling than the brother she was used to. Not a lot, but it might confuse someone who'd only seen photos of his usual, clean-shaven self. As he unwrapped his sandwich, he continued, "Remember the Hollywood sign? Oh, and the Cape Canaveral Space Center? A good close up view isn't enough for you. When it's something special, you like to take every view you can, have to explore every viewpoint, every angle."

"Not _every_ angle." But she was smiling now, the first real one in a while. "But every angle is a different experience, a different story." And she liked exploring them, as many as she could.

"Yeah, yeah, and you drove us nuts making us stop and look at every variation you could find, but I'm certainly not going to risk hearing you complain about how we _only_ got to see an Ivory Tower while on our way to the Andromeda Galaxy." The tone was only lightly teasing rather than a real complaint... he, too, seemed happy, even if it was just feeding off her excitement. That faded a bit when he said, "I'm just sorry you don't have your camera." That was a casualty of the chaos of their sudden departure. "But hey, we can take phone selfies or something."

"Maybe. But let's just look for a while." She leaned over the railing, staring at it, imagining how far it had traveled from some distant origin point to their world, close enough to see with her own eyes. Compared to some of the other landmarks it wasn't really all that impressive, particularly from a distance without any sense of scale, but it represented so many of her impossible dreams coming true. Possibly, anyway. 

Justin took a bite of his sandwich, chewed noisily, and swallowed, then, as though reading her mind, said, "Hard to believe it looks so... _normal,_ now. Not at all like how we first saw them. You remember that?"

"Of course." What a ridiculous question. How could anyone _not_? It was the defining moment of their entire generation, the kind of thing where people, for decades, would be talking about where they were that _exact_ moment they saw the towers on the news. The day the aliens came...

\--- 

Cheryl came very close to missing that defining moment, or rather the several hours of which it actually consisted, entirely. While most of the world had already become aware that things would never be the same, she was in her room, studying for her SATs, and, as usual, stressing over it, specifically the SAT Subject Test for Chemistry she had scheduled the next morning. She loved science, and was good at it, but while her friends assumed she'd do well without studying, she still obsessively went over her notes before every test until she convinced herself she knew everything... besides, stressing over a test felt normal and natural and prevented her from worrying too much about the life changes that the SATs were preparing her for. However, when it came to Chemistry it wasn't just being a diligent student... she really felt she _needed_ the study time in order to do well at all. Something in the subject matter just didn't make the usual connections in her brain... with her last practice test, which she had _felt_ prepared for, she only earned a B. Which wasn't good enough for her. So this time, she planned to really buckle down, no distractions... not even music which she normally liked while studying. Nothing to interfere with drilling the information into her head until she knew the material backwards and forwards. 

Until her phone rang. Cheryl had put it on silent, of course, even left it in an open dresser drawer just so she wouldn't be tempted to look at it and get caught in a timesink, but she allowed one number through her Do Not Disturb blockade... her brother, Justin, who had decided to start college in January rather than fall, in order to accommodate an epic trip through Europe.

So, when she heard the loud chirp she'd set for his ringtone, she sprang off her bed towards the phone, forgetting studying almost completely. _This_, she would make an exception for... it was the longest they'd not lived under the same roof, and she missed him more than she'd admit to anybody else. As she lifted the phone she did a quick calculation in her head... it was well after midnight there, which was a bit of a weird time to be calling. It _probably_ wasn't an emergency like an accident or something, the mere possibility of which still made her stomach knot for just a second before she dismissed it as unlikely... if it was, they'd call Mom first probably. Maybe, at worst, he needed emergency money, and maybe he just wanted to talk. She hoped he was just homesick and having trouble sleeping rather than drunk like the last time that happened. That was weird. 

Then the thought that it really was an emergency began to gain momentum within her, and by the time she pressed the button she was ready to cry. "Hey Justin," she said, making an effort to sound as cheery as possible. No sense letting anyone else know the crazy thoughts, even if Justin would understand better than most. She went to her wall, looked at a picture of him posted there. Justin didn't like video chats, but it was better seeing him while hearing his voice, a little more like he wasn't so far away. "How's Prague?" That was where he said he'd be last. Her heartbeats stopped until he actually answered and proved her catastrophe-fears wrong. 

"Uh pretty much like anywhere else right now," he said, and she relaxed instantly. It was him, not some doctor who found his phone and went through his contacts looking for family. "People don't know whether to panic or party. How're things with you?"

"Just studying for the Chem SAT," she said, trying to figure out exactly what he meant. Was he making some weird comment on human nature in general? Maybe he _was_ a little drunk. He certainly sounded weird, a little more uncertain than his normal confident, jokey self, and yet more energized than those self-reflective moments when something was bothering him and he didn't feel the need to pretend it wasn't. "I think I'm starting to hate chemical equilibrium."

"You're _studying_?" He sounded astonished. "_Now_?"

Cheryl smirked. "Did you forget your time zones again? It's not _that_ late. Don't worry, I'll still get plenty of sleep before my test tomorrow." Maybe. But she could function on very little sleep. 

There were a few seconds of silence. "Cheryl... do you have _any_ idea what's going on? Hasn't Mom come talk to you?"

"Mom's working," she said. Now she was starting to get worried. "Why, what's going on?"

"Turn on the TV. Turn on the TV right now. Pretty much _any_ channel."

Her stomach flipped a few times as she scanned the room for where she left the remote control for the TV mounted on one wall. "Why, what happened?" It had to be a terrorist attack or something. They weren't in any of the usual targets, but what else could get international coverage like that?

She found the remote, pushed the power button, and saw, against a background of sky blue, a white cylinder with one end alight with energy. _It's a missile,_ she thought. _Someone started World War Three._ But then she read the text crawl underneath the image. 

"Alien structures continue landing."

"Cheryl? Cheryl, are you there?" 

She could hear her brother talking, but it took a few more seconds staring at the screen before she could work her mouth again. "Is this a joke?" she asked.

"Yeah, you got me, I hacked into _all_ the news stations around the world and faked an alien invasion, _just_ to mess with you. I was really hoping you'd fall for it longer."

"How long has this been going on?" She flipped through channels, several on the same footage, others on other sites, white towers now landed in oceans and lakes. On several, the text said some variation on "Invasion" or "Alien Message Promises Peaceful Intentions" or "Authorities Recommend Staying In Homes, But Don't Panic." 

"About an hour?" Justin said. "I can't _believe_ you didn't know. I was asleep and somebody woke me up."

"What's going on, Justin? Are we all going to die?" It was funny though, she didn't really feel it as a possibility. Preparing to go to college gave her a constant background level of anxiety that she sometimes could only barely cope with, born of the fear that she wouldn't be able to handle all the changes to her life that went along with it, but... aliens invading? Somehow, that was a change that didn't worry her. It was like she was surprised it hadn't happened earlier. 

Her brother took the question seriously though, falling into his usual role of trying to reassure her after one moment that, she thought, reflected a peek behind his normally together self. "I don't know. I mean, _probably_ not? They put out a big message, in every language. They say they're only landing in oceans and large bodies of water, and the poles, that they mean us no harm. And sure, that's probably what evil aliens would say too. But... if they just wanted to kill us they could probably do it pretty easily. I mean, they say Lil Kim shot a nuke at one of them and it just _disappeared._" He took a breath, letting that sink in, then said, "Those things in the sky are the size of buildings... if they just let a few crash instead of landing it'd be like a nuclear attack beyond anything we've ever seen."

It made sense, and in her bones she felt that was probably true, but she couldn't help working through the possibilities, even saying the worst of them out loud sometimes helped her so they didn't stay in her head. "That's if they want to _blow us up_," Cheryl pointed out. "There's a lot of other bad things they could do. Enslave us. Use us for food."

"Do you _really_ believe aliens crossed a galaxy because they were really craving human burgers?"

"Okay, maybe that's a little far-fetched... but we don't know."

"Right. It's a possibility. But they could just as easily be friendly. Any species smart enough for space travel has to be more advanced than us. It could be like the freaking Federation falling at our doorstep."

"If it was the Federation, they wouldn't be here until we developed warp..."

"You don't know _someone_ didn't. But fine, not the Federation... but they could be something like it. Maybe they really do come in peace. But... one way or another, _everything's_ about to change. The world's a different place." She heard him chuckle, but with fear behind it, and wondered if, for once, she was less worried about something than he was. "I bet your test is going to be postponed..."

The test was, for once, the last thing on her mind. He was right, this was big, bigger than anything, even if they stubbornly kept to the schedule Cheryl knew it was more important to be here, witnessing this moment, even if it meant failing. That was the good thing about SATs, she could always retake them. 

As they spoke, she kept changing channels, unwilling to settle for just one view on this event, she had to have them all, or at least as many as she could. If she was alone, maybe she'd bounce between a thousand sites on her phone, too... but she wouldn't dare hang up until Justin did. It was the kind of experience you wanted to share with somebody. "Where are you right now?"

"The roof of the hostel. Saw one of them descending before I called, but I can't see it right now. A couple of the people I was with went down to the river so they could see if one landed there, but... I don't think they're going to. So I'm just looking up into the stars."

She looked away from the photo and went to her own window, and what she could see of the sky, although it was too cloudy to even imagine looking up at the same stars as him. "Do you see anything up there?"

"The future," he said after a long silence. "Imagine, Cheryl, if they really _are_ friendly, some kind of alien version of Starfleet. Maybe that means they won't just be coming down here, we'll be going _up there_. And I don't just mean humanity, I mean you and me. Traveling the stars. Like we used to dream about when we were young." Another pause. "We haven't talked about it in a while, maybe it's not really something you wish you could do anymore, but..."

"No, it is..." she admitted. "It just didn't seem like it was ever going to happen." She still set her sights on working for NASA one day, but the chances of actually getting into space seemed vanishingly remote, much less to do what she really wanted, visit distant stars, alien worlds. 

"Same here. But tonight..." he went quiet for long enough to think maybe he just trailed off, before he continued, "Tonight I'm going to believe almost _anything_ is possible."


	2. Rules of Engagement

Justin was beginning to regret making what might be his last meal on Earth a bus terminal ham sandwich. The food itself was fine, aside from the bun maybe being a little tougher than it needed to be, but after it was finished, regret set in... it just seemed like he should take advantage of the best the planet had to offer if he was going to be leaving it... food on Mars might wind up being pretty close to Earth's, but if he got on an alien ship for all he knew they might only serve nutrient goop. 

As the taxi drew him and his sister towards their destination, possibly their destiny, passing by real restaurants, he couldn't help but mark each one that would have made a better last meal for the two of them than what they got. Even if he enjoyed stopping to eat on the bridge and showing Cheryl the tower, they could have been enjoying Thai food or tacos, or even just a greasy slice of pizza or something. 

Part of him knew what he was doing... focusing on something trivial so he wouldn't have to think about what was coming. If he really thought about it, he'd be nervous, and worse, probably _look_ nervous, which would make Cheryl nervous. And it was a big brother's job to protect his sister, even if only from a little extra anxiety. More than that, he liked being that person for her, even if it meant pretending to be more confident and in control than he felt. It was a role he was comfortable with. So he reigned it in and thought about food. 

They didn't talk much in the taxi, for fear the driver might listen in... they didn't even tell him exactly where they were going, because who knew how someone might react? Everything to do with the aliens was very political, bordering on religious... indeed, often the religious had a particular hatred for the 'godless' aliens and their 'perverted' morality.. So he couldn't even ask his sister if she was starting to get overwhelmed, but he did look over to her regularly, looking for signs. She seemed calm, but the fingers of her left hand were playing with her wild blonde hair which made him worry she was dreading the coming interview and whatever performance went along with it. At least she wasn't chewing on a clump of the strands.

A block or two from their intended destination, they asked the cab to pull over, and after he paid and the driver left, Justin pulled Cheryl aside to a quiet part of the street. "You ready?" 

She nodded, swallowed, and pushed up her glasses on her nose. She still wore her prescription ones, and he realized it would probably be better to switch back to the sunglasses for the final walk, just to be safe, but until then he liked being able to look in her eyes, to make sure they were on the same page.

"This is probably the last time we're going to be able to speak freely," he pointed out. "From here on out, we're going to have to keep our game faces on, stick to our codes, so this time, I _really_ mean it, are you ready for this?" She nodded again. "We can still back out, you know. Go back home, tell everyone it was all a joke." Cheryl raised a skeptical eyebrow at him. "Okay, it might not be as easy as _that_, but... we might have to anyway if it doesn't work out. I just want to make sure we're together on this. Remember the pact. If either of us don't want to do it, we can still give up on this. Forget everything anyone said, we can find a way to figure it out. How's your anxiety?"

She made an ambiguous face, her lips wrinkling up to the side in an expression that could have been annoyance at being asked, or anger at herself at it even being an issue. "I took some of my meds in the bus station. I'm good right now. Well, not _good_, but... functional."

"If you'd rather not, or wait..."

"Are _you_ having second thoughts?" she asked. "About what we're doing?"

_Constantly,_ he thought, but he smiled and just said, "I'm good, as long as this is still what we both want." He stressed '_both_' to make sure the choice was in her hands... which also made him feel a little guilty, like he was putting the whole decision on her, one way or the other. He didn't want to influence her towards one answer or the other but somehow that also felt like a manipulation, like he should be the one to decide for himself at least. 

"_Ad astra,_" she said. To the stars. 

He smiled. "Okay. _Ad astra._ Toughest part is still ahead, though. So you might want to change _these_ again." He tapped the top rim of her glasses, right above the nose rest, and added, "Trust me, _that_ crowd's not going to be worth seeing. Don't engage, just keep walking, okay? Just think about like you're in a play, playing a part, like we talked about before, right?" 

She nodded, changing back into the sunglasses while he talked, and then offered her hand. They'd been doing it a lot lately. She wasn't blind enough to need him physically guiding her, but it made sense, especially right now when getting separated was not what they needed... and, for the first time, it would look good for an audience. Playing a part, like he said. That was one of the semi-reliable tricks to getting around her anxiety... his sister actually _did_ function better as long as she was pretending to not be her normal self. It didn't work well for everyday life, in order to _fake-it-till-you-make-it_, as the saying went and far too many people tried to advise her. Cheryl had to convince herself at least that she was someone different enough from her normal behavior patterns, and a reason enough to keep the charade without feeling like a fraud, in order to keep the anxiety demons at bay. For this, though, it seemed like it was on that borderline, and there were other concerns about what it might signal, so holding her hand always raised a little flutter of worry inside him. Still, she said it would help, and he believed her, and this _was_ a key part of the plan. So he took her hand, and they began to walk, together.

The two of them heard the protesters before they saw anyone obviously associated with them, because of a steady drum beat that, it turned out, belonged to a an actual drum played by a craggy-faced old man who held a sign saying, "Get Your Own Damn Planet." It seemed to Justin like that was a huge misunderstanding of the situation or at the very least some very confused messaging, especially because the man was seated and his sign was pointed back towards the city full of humans. Beyond that, the crowd was subdued, a few dozen people surrounding the spit of green land leading to the visitor center, an orange-painted cylindrical building on the edge of the waterfront. Many of the assembled people also held signs, but most of them weren't held aloft... the protesters were there all day, but you could only keep up your shouting for so long when the aliens inside refused to respond to you. At that particular moment, they were milling about, talking to each other, looking almost like a summer picnic. 

One older bald man with a long grey beard that was braided in two tails stared the two of them as they approached, like he knew why they were there. Plenty of people came just for a look, or to join the protests, but this guy seemed, not to recognize _them_, but recognize something _about_ them, for he held his sign up, which read, "Proverbs 6:14 - _Who with perversity in his heart, who spreads discord._" And he kept his eyes on the two of them as they got closer and closer.

Trying to ignore it, the two kept walking, working their way closer to the front of the line, gathering more attention, but with no one still sure of their destination, especially when they paused at the edge. Cheryl squeezed his hand, and then a second later, nudged him with an elbow, like she was telling him to get moving, although she might have just been jostled by somebody else. 

Justin took a breath, then stepped forward onto the grass, which was like a signal to the protesters, that they were the enemy, or, if not that far, at least somebody who needed to be tempted to the side of right. The crowd instantly became alert, became a gabbling of voices, some talking to them like friends, others shouting at them in hateful ways. "Don't give them the satisfaction of going to them! No _decent_ person has any business in there!" "Stop! Think of your soul!" "You want to make a deal with abominations, kids?" "Your parents would be ashamed of you." "Death to perverts and pervert-lovers!"

But no one in the crowd did step forward, or interfere. It was the rules. Anyone the Pa-Var saw interfering with traffic to one of their buildings could be incapacitated with an invisible beam at any moment, and by this point even the most die-hard of the protesters had lost the taste for body-wracking seizures and public loss of bowel control.  
Across the water, Justin tried to keep his eyes and attention on the distant Ivory Tower which they could see over the water, or at least Justin could... it was probably outside of Cheryl's range without her normal glasses, and he felt guilty about depriving her of another good look, but she'd see it from the journey there unless they were turned away. Which was still a possibility. 

The voices seemed to lose interest because Justin and Cheryl were doing the best to ignore them and were past the range where protesters were allowed to follow. One last voice, a deep one with a scratch in it that suggested age, rang out, directed not to them but the rest of the crowd, and somehow without looking, Justin knew it was from the old man who stared at them. "Don't worry, we'll get them on the way back. Those two kids will be going home disappointed, mark my words. The aliens only like perverts like them!" 

\---

"You're sick man," Justin said, responding with a grin to one last dirty joke, punchline delivered just as he was opening the door, then stood up, said "Thanks, I owe you one," and patted the top of the car gently as a final goodbye. As it drove away, he waved one last time, adjusted his backpack, and turned to walk towards the path to the the white-slatted house in front of him. The lawn wasn't looking particularly healthy, somehow both overgrown and tired, with a muddy patch because people sometimes didn't take the time to follow the path all the way to the sidewalk and just crossed at an angle. 

At the brown front door, he paused... this was a moment he'd thought about for quite a while, just how to do it, and so he lifted a fist and knocked casually, nothing fun, just a standard, polite, anonymous, knock that could be salesman or survey or police officer, then stood there and waited.

When it opened, he squinted a little, looked confused at the blonde, currently ponytailed teenage girl standing on the other side of it, and said, "I must have the wrong house."

The grin Cheryl wore broke even larger at that, and she leapt at him, wrapping not only her arms around his neck but her legs around him, almost dragging him down with her weight before he adjusted and hugged her back. After a few seconds, she let her legs drop to the ground and support her own weight, and let go, stepping back and wiping a tear from her eyes. "You're early! Why didn't you let us pick you up?"

"Flight schedules are a little crazy... I didn't know for sure until my last layover. So I just got Tony Glinsky to drive me. Besides, I wanted to surprise you guys."

"Yeah, well... I'm not making you _Folgers_." He smiled at that, realizing she recognized the reference to the cheesy old commercial they sometimes joked about, even if she didn't entirely play along. She turned, stepped inside and shouted, "Mom! Justin's home!" 

He could hear his mother’s yell of surprise from upstairs as he followed Cheryl inside, then, before she got too far into the house, reached into his bag and said, “Here. I did get you something from far away.”

“Ooh!” His sister snatched at the wrapped present, then quickly unwrapped it. It was a small metal sculpture of the Eiffel Tower, about seven inches, made of a metal that looked like muddy bronze and though it probably wasn’t, it was at least stable and looked pretty close to the actual thing, not one of the tackier ones that had the words ‘PARIS’ written on it as though you needed a hint where it was from.

Suddenly worried that it might be too conventional, he shrugged and gave a weak smile as he explained, “It may not be as impressive as the _other_ towers in the news lately, but I thought it might go nice in your room.” That way she could see it from different angles, almost like the real thing. 

She inspected it dubiously, indeed looking at it from all angles, but with no expression on her face before finally saying, “I don’t know… it is a little phallic. You gotta be careful something like that to a girl, even your sister, they might get the wrong idea.” Then she broke into a giggle upon seeing his face. “I’m just teasing. I _love_ it. I know exactly where I want to put it.” She hugged him again, one of the model's metal legs digging into his back, but he didn't mind.

At this point, their mother trudged down the steps, holding a basket full of clothes for the laundry, although she set it down at the bottom of the stairs and then moved to greet her returning son. She looked healthy, but tired, maybe a little frazzled, although Justin knew he could have been reading into that. Mom repeated the assurance that they would have picked him up, and Justin repeated his explanation for why, and soon they moved into the living room where he sank into the comforting couch, ran his hands over the familiar brown fabric.

“You know the aliens are going to be doing their big speech to the UN soon,” Cheryl pointed out. 

“Yeah, I know. I’m glad I got back in time… that’s another reason I didn’t want to bug you guys, I didn’t want to risk making anyone miss it. You guys _are_ going to watch, right?”

“I think everybody is,” Mom said. “It’s like the Moon landing.” Which she wouldn’t have been around for, but everyone was using that comparison a lot these days. Today wasn’t likely to be quite as impressive as the day the towers landed, but it would be the first time that most of the world would actually see any of the alien beings… although certainly some world leaders had already encountered them. The ceremony at the UN was meant to be a more official introduction, a speech to all of humanity, and the word from the media was that it would be reassuring… Justin didn’t know what to think about the fact that they needed reassuring that the speech would be reassuring. It seemed like if it was actually reassuring that would be enough... but rumors were flying all around.

Speaking of which... he was no better than anybody else. “I’ve heard some things,” Justin said. “On the flight home, I talked to someone who claimed her father was on the initial contact team for the US, she told us some things about them that haven't leaked yet. It’ll be interesting to see if they actually knew what they were talking about." The woman who sat next to him didn't seem the type to be making things up outright but he went back and forth between whether he believed she actually genuinely had exclusive information or if she just repeated things she'd heard elsewhere. 

"Like what?"

"Well, like I heard the Pa-Var Alliance's got like, seventy different alien species in it now, but..."

"Can we _not_ talk about the Pa-Var right now?" Mom said. "Yes, I know they're big news, but so is you being home. And since we're all going to be seeing for ourselves in a couple hours whether the aliens are going to turn us all into slaves or whatever..." She said it lightly, like it was a joke, but Justin thought there was real anxiety behind it. "Personally, I'd rather hear some stories from _this_ planet. You didn't post to Instagram nearly enough."

"It's true," Cheryl agreed, mock glaring at him as she tossed the Eiffel Tower model over and over again in her hands. "Especially lacking in good photographs. How are we supposed to live vicariously through your adventures when you barely post?"

"Hey, I'm not the photographer in the family." _Or talented at anything very much,_ he thought privately, though storytelling he could probably manage. "But, okay, let's see...." He ran over in his head the different countries he saw, trying to come up with stories that he could tell that were both a little amusing and that wouldn't risk a lecture from Mom. "Well, we did stop by this board game cafe in Germany? And we played this game of _Pandemic_ with these German students, who were pretty cool but they were like, offended that we didn't know the different types of sausages and we wound up spending the rest of the night getting dragged around the city while they got us to try like dozens of different types as a matter of national pride." And drinking, too, but he left that out for Mom's sake. "And I don't even think we scratched the surface." 

He listed off a few types of sausages that he liked best, although he was privately sure he was mixing a few of them up, then held off from finishing with the joke, 'It was the _wurst_ experience of my life...' only to hear...

"Sounds you had the _wurst_ experience." Cheryl's teeth flashed in an open-mouth grin.

With an exaggerated frown, Justin pointed at her. "Okay, Mom, it's me or her, I can't stay in the same house as her after that." She stuck her tongue out at him, and they both relaxed once more into casual smiles. 

Mom ignored the comment, not taking it seriously, but instead asked, "What about that girl you were traveling with? Taylor? Was _she_ with you?" 

"Uh, no, we kind of parted ways a while before that."

"Good, I never liked her," Cheryl said. 

"You never met her," Mom said. "She seemed very sweet to me."

Cheryl's head shook, unwilling to be swayed from her first impressions. "I didn't like the look of her from those pictures, something wasn't right." She met Justin's gaze. "I can tell, she did something, like, ran off with all your cash or something, didn't she?"

He let out a short laugh. "No, nothing like that. She just decided she wanted to stay in France a little longer than I did." It was always an association of convenience... over the course of his trip, there were frequently loose groups of tourists who met in transit or at a hostel and decided to travel together for a time. With Taylor, he _thought_ there might have been something mutual building, they seemed to be getting particularly close and spending a lot of time together, and then when they were about to move on to another city, she told him she was staying in Paris with a guy she met there. It stung a little at the time, but he moved on. Still, he didn't exactly _like_ revealing why. "Probably just wanted to enjoy the food. And really, I can't blame her for that, French food is... surprise, actually really good. Really lives up to the reputation. And you know, contrary to the stereotypes, they weren't snooty at all, almost everyone I met was really welcoming. There was this small place I stopped at after the Eiffel Tower, real homey, had something called _cassoulet_ which was like this great.... stew type thing? Really amazing. Oh, and tried some _escargot_, which are..."

"Snails," Cheryl guessed, wrinkling her nose.

"Yes, but trust me, they are delicious, prepared like they were, you would love them."

"Okay," Mom said. "That's the second story you turned into talking about food. I know my boy... you must be hungry. We should order something. How about pizza? I know you didn't get a chance to see Italy..."

"I don't think they really eat pizza in Italy," Cheryl said. "At least, not the same kinds we're used to." 

"We don't have to order anything," Justin said, trying to shoot a look to his mother while Cheryl was distracted. "I'm fine with like, whatever we have on hand."

"Nonsense. We're celebrating." Mom shooed Cheryl away. "Go, make the call. You know what he likes. Get a cheese only one for me." As soon as she was gone (probably, he knew, to make the order from an app rather than calling on the phone), Justin shot his mother another pointed look. "We can afford a pizza now and then, Justin. Things aren't _that_ dire."

"Aunt Sharon made it sound..."

She cut him off. "Your Aunt Sharon is a busybody who never should have said _anything_, especially not to _you_. It's not a big deal."

"I wish you'd _told_ me. I could have cancelled the trip." 

"That's exactly why I didn't tell you." Her eyes softened, "You'd been so looking forward to it, and I wasn't going to let my mistakes take that from you. Besides, you needed to get out of this house, to have some wild, fun adventures on your own." And it was fun, up until he posted a picture and got an electronic earful from their Mom's long-time friend Sharon, who complained about him selfishly wasting money on a European trip while Mom was just about to lose the house and he had to ask her what was going on. "Things will be okay, I have a plan, and now shush. I don't want you worrying your sister, too." 

On that he could agree entirely, she had enough anxiety to deal with already, he didn't want something like this hanging over her head... assuming Aunt Sharon hadn't also cornered her about being a bad daughter. He thought he'd have known already if that was the case, but sometimes Cheryl did keep her feelings bottled up so tightly even he didn't know what was going on with her. 

Mom relaxed back into the couch and waved towards the TV. "Besides, you think I want to cook on the day our alien overlords tell us how it's all going to be?" 

Hours later, they were eating pizza... for the second time, now cold pizza left over from their first binge, at that point more from a nervous need to be doing something than from actual hunger. They, and a good chunk of the world, were watching the feed from the UN, as the Secretary General was making a long speech about how their new friends from the stars would likely change everything in the near future, and his hopes that Earth would rise to the occasion and unite past their petty differences.

The aliens themselves had not yet appeared, but it was like everyone could feel it coming closer, a rising energy, in some collective awareness, despite not being in the speech, which was a boring drone in heavily accented English. The Pa-Var had said the event should be conducted in English, the language of the country the UN building was in, but promised immediate and complete translations for everything around the world... Justin wondered if any of them made the Secretary General entertaining. 

Then, abruptly, the speech concluded, and in the living room they all sat up a little straighter as the representatives of the Pa-Var Alliance were led in to the main podium, just under the large UN seal. 

"They look so _human_," Cheryl marveled. One, almost indistinguishably so, the other two a little like what they always used to call '_Star Trek_ aliens,' two eyes, four limbs, unusual, but people you couldn't be sure weren't just good make-up jobs. 

"That's by design from what I hear," Justin said, despite his reservations eager to pass on some of the rumors he heard. "They chose their representatives to shock us as little as possible. The Var do a lot of body modifications anyway, so they just chose people with ones that looked closest to us."

"She's so _pretty_," Cheryl said as the camera focused on the one who looked most human. And indeed, she did look like an attractive human woman fresh out of adolescence, more suited to youth rally or even a modelling stage than a speech at the UN. The only features that marked her out out as being not quite ordinary were that her eyes were a little bigger than usual, the kind of thing people sometimes put on photo filters, and doubtless there were conspiracy theorists insisting that that was just what was happening. Other than those eyes (which Justin didn't notice until a few minutes later were also two different colors), she still would have drawn looks for more than her flawless skin or lithe but curvy form... her hair was styled in such a way that it was as though the left and right side of her head couldn't agree on a hairstyle. On the left, it was short, dark and spikey, and on the right, long, light, flowing and occasionally covering part of her face. Her outfit was a skintight wrap that covered all but her head, neck, and shoulders, hand hands, and displayed a wild, shifting pattern like a screen-saver. She also wore an intricate metal necklace, a bracelet, and ring. 

"I think that's one of the Pa," Justin said. "They're supposed to be like, energy beings, sort of like holograms on _Star Trek_, so they can look however they choose." 

"That's not actually possible," Cheryl said. "Is it?" 

He shrugged, expecting science would be redefining what was possible a lot very soon. "The other two are probably Var." These, looked a little more alien, although, again, nothing a good Hollywood makeup shop couldn't recreate... tall, sleek, dressed in open-sleeved grey or blue robes, a slight snout quality to their mouths, and hair that resembled a coat of fur and went down their backs. _Otter-like_ was the first comparison that came to Justin's mind, although not quite perfect. They had no visible ears but a sort of knobby protrusion at around the level of their temples, that, with extended viewing, seemed to gradually shift in size and apparent hardness. One of the pair seemed to be male, one female (with a longer neck and what seemed like breasts), although Justin knew those categories did not necessarily apply, it nonetheless was hard not to think that way.  
Once the alien visitors got settled behind the podium, one of the Var, the male, began to speak in perfect, though somewhat too formal English. "We are gratified by the invitation to come to you, to speak to the people of Earth. You have your problems, but I feel there is great potential in the people of your planet when you choose to work together. On our way through this city of New York to visit you, I was just saying to my wife and sister, how encouraging a sign it was that there are so many subtypes of humanity here, all coexisting peacefully."

"Huh, so they're all one family?" Mom said.

"I guess?" Justin caught the implication, but it could have been a misinterpretation. 

"But they're different species." 

"We don't know if '_wife_' means exactly the same thing," Cheryl pointed out. "But, I mean, it makes sense. If they're really advanced are they going to worry about if you're a Pa or a Var? Love is love, right?" 

Justin nodded along. It was strange seeing his mother so conservative... to him, it was no different than Sarek and Amanda, or Kira and Odo, or any number of other couples they'd shipped on television. "Besides, if the Pa really can look like anything, at home she might look like a really cute Var."

The male Var was still speaking, but the Pa held up a hand. "Okay, Ki-pon. I know you love to focus on the positive, but these poor people aren't watching to get a pep talk." She spoke far more casually than the Var, although Justin spotted an unusual glitch to it. Her mouth moved as she spoke, but it didn't match the sounds made. It wasn't even a proper delay, like a sound synch issue. It seemed more like she was just opening her mouth almost at random and the right sounds came out anyway, making her look even more like an anime character, large eyes, weird hair, badly dubbed. "They may put on their brave face, but they're terrified, and the only reason they're all watching is to find out how things are going to be. So let's get to it." She clapped her hands, either a distinctive motion to her species or a misunderstanding of human body language, because it was sudden and jarring, and came with a buzzing sound rather than a good slap. "First, to set many of your minds at ease, we have _no_ intention of ruling over you. You can keep your charming little countries, and each set your own rules, and probably still fight petty disputes over the stupidest shit as you will inevitably do. We're not here to run your lives... we have no interest, and frankly, I'm not sure you'd be worth the trouble anyway. The only reason we came at all was because you were seriously in danger of fucking up your planet's biosphere. Most of you are in denial about it, and even the ones who are aware ... well, you have no idea _how_ close you were to rendering it uninhabitable for higher forms of biological life for centuries to come. I'm including you humans in that category, so... try and live up to it. If we didn't intervene, you might never grow up beyond only that to be a good member of the galactic community. And some of you are _close_ to being worth talking to. So, we set those towers down to repair your environment and give you some more time. We even took care to set them down only on the oceans and polar regions to minimize hurt feelings from territorialism. If we could, we might try to do it all without your knowledge, but we can't, and if we did you'd never learn anyway, so, unfortunately we had to reveal ourselves, and actually interact with you. So, since we _have_ to be here, we need to set some ground rules." On the couch, Justin and his family all exchanged nervous looks, aware that they were now getting to the real rules, the stick behind the carrot. 

"First, no interfering with the towers or any other structure we put up. You probably couldn't do any damage, but it would annoy us. They're for your own good. Leave them be. Same goes for our people.

"Second, no more using weapons of mass destruction. If you have to ask, it probably counts. I don't care what problems you have, sort them out in other ways. 

"Third, although our towers are all in bodies of water, we will be establishing land-based outposts, at least one in every country, and several for the large or populous ones, for limited diplomatic contact and to teach our moral worldview and hopefully advance you by degrees. If you are cooperative, we will work with you on where to place these to minimize disruption. If you are not, we will choose the locations. These outposts are covered by the 'no interfering' rule, and in addition, no one may be physically or legally prevented from entering, or leaving, except of course by us.

"Fourth, until you reach the moral threshold required, space is closed to you."

Justin's heart sank. Just like that, all his dreams were crushed. Or at least deferred. He looked to Cheryl, saw on her face she felt the same way. "Oh, you can still do those shuttle missions and probes," the Pa continued. "Those are _adorable._ But anything with a significant intelligence outside of, say, your moon, will be stopped until we decide you're ready."

"Maybe it's not _so_ bad," Cheryl ventured, but there was no real hope in it, she was just saying it to comfort herself and maybe him too. 

The Pa representative continued, oblivious to how many dreams she just shattered. "Now, you're probably all wondering, 'what happens if we violate these rules?' Then we take action against whoever did it. Not the civilian populations of the country, you understand, that would be barbaric. No, we will specifically target and punish anyone who ordered or carried out an order that violates these rules, right up to the top if necessary. Do not underestimate our ability to find and punish the people responsible. I should probably take the opportunity to ask the representative from North Korea to tell his leader we are _done_ giving warnings and can _absolutely_ target him in the mountain base he's been in for the last three days if he acts out again. But if you all follow the rules, we won't have to do anything. And they weren't so bad, were they? Our rules of engagement are much kinder than some of the ones we've seen _you_ use. We really do want to preserve your autonomy as much as possible until you're ready to join us in the galactic community."

The one she called Ki-pon spoke again. "And indeed, some of your nations are already _very close_ to an acceptable standard. Some of you need to amend your laws or constitutions dramatically, but others merely need to a few changes, or to live up to laws you already have in place. It could happen very quickly, or very slowly. This depends on you. We will not do it for you."

Ki-pon's sister, the other Var, said, "We have agreed to answer a few question from members of your security council, before we leave you to your own affairs. For obvious reasons, we will answer no questions about science or our technology."

"You wouldn't understand the answers anyway," the Pa pointed out, cheerily smug.

As the first of the security council asked a question, which started with a pretty long-winded statement, Justin's mom said, "I guess it could have gone worse. That's not so bad, if they're not hiding some dark secret plan or something. They seem pretty arrogant, though."

"Maybe they earned it," Cheryl suggested tentatively. "So far they sound like they've got better policies than most human leaders."

"Keeping us from space, though..." Justin said with a frustrated sigh.

"It's only until they say we're 'morally advanced' enough," she pointed out. "And they said some of our countries are close. Maybe it won't take too long. I wonder what the sticking point is."

"They probably want us all to go vegan or something," Justin guessed. "I don't care. I'd do it. If it means getting into space, I'll do _anything_." But he took another bite of meat-covered pizza anyway, because he might as well enjoy it while he could. 

Cheryl hmmed. "They've got teeth too sharp to be vegetarians."

It was a good point, but he couldn't concede. Just on general principle. "Doesn't mean anything, they probably grow vegan meat in vats or something." Humans were getting pretty close, so they had to have the technology. It'd be the best of both worlds, really, if he could still eat delicious bacon but no animals had to die and he could go to space. 

On the screen, the question was just finishing up, something about respecting sovereignty. "We traditionally make contact with bodies that speak for a majority of the population, either a single world government, or a group, like your UN, that agrees on and enforces certain broad moral standards," Ki-pon explained in answer to whatever it was. "The United Nations Convention on Human Rights, for example, is a fine start, and if only your member states would all agree to uphold them, only a few improvements would need to be made. This would be the quickest route towards full membership in the Alliance. However, we do recognize that you are unlikely to agree, and it would be unfair to hold back all of humanity for the intransigence of a few. We will reassess on a regular basis and decide if it would be better to deal with countries who meet our standards, and leave the rest to choose whether to catch up, or be left behind. The last time a similar situation came about, we made that policy shift within five years, and it turned out well, but that does not guarantee we will make a decision the same way here."

"Wow, that's quick," Cheryl said.

"Five years," Justin repeated. "I can wait five years. Man, I'm lucky I put off going to college..." He was going to say more, about how he could plan his courses towards whatever the aliens might be looking for, but then wondered briefly if he could even afford college. He'd always just assumed it before. Now it was a little more in doubt, and not just because the world had turned upside down and hadn't completely settled. Maybe Mom really had it handled. Maybe prices wouldn't go up as millions of people had the same idea as him. But he didn't know. All he could do was hope. 

The American representative of the security council spoke next. After the usual pontificating, he suggested that it might be wiser to give, if not full membership to the Alliance, certain technological advancements to countries which were the most morally advanced, for example, advanced power generation that could reduce reliance on polluting technologies. Justin thought the guy looked like it wasn't really what he wanted to ask, and was instead instructed by someone else, though that could well be true of any of the diplomats. 

The Pa spoke, interrupting the suggestion in progress. "Is there a _question_ in there? Because I thought we were here to answer your questions, not listen to _suggestions _ about how we operate. Though I suppose it is endearing that you're using your time to advocate on behalf of France."

That stopped the US representative for a moment. "Excuse me? _France?_"

"Yes, of your security council, France is the closest to meeting our standards. Not there yet, but I think they could be there the fastest. Were you not asking for advanced technologies on their behalf?"

"Why France as opposed to us?"

"Ah, there we go, a question. See, I knew you could do it." The Pa may not have mastered lip sync, but had a condescending smile down pat. "The United States is the same problem as dealing with the UN on a smaller scale. You have some nice ideals, when you live up to them, but really, we'd be dealing with a bunch of independent states, with wildly different moral levels. Some of you don't even respect bodily autonomy. And most of them, unlike France, still lock people up for consensual sexual and romantic relationships between adults."

"I believe your information is out of date. Gay marriage has been legal..."

"Not _that_," the Pa said. "Though it took you long enough to even do _that_."

"Then I'm afraid I don't know what you're..."

The female-looking Var spoke now, and for the first time actually seemed angry, the lips of her snout curled up and showed those meat-eating teeth. "No? Under your laws, I never would have been allowed to marry the one I love. In fact, in this very city, if we were to hold ourselves to your laws, I could not have sex with my brother and husband without facing years of imprisonment." Ki-pon put his hand to her face, and she nuzzled into it, and it seemed to calm them both.

That caused quite a titter in the UN, and he and Cheryl exchanged a quick, shocked look, then equally quickly looked away. 

But just as Justin was thinking that there must have been some kind of misunderstanding, Ki-pon said, "Luckily we do _not_ hold ourselves to your laws, and as soon as we're done with this we shall enjoy the diplomatic immunity granted."

"Why wait?" the Pa said. "Why not do it right here? I can handle the rest of the questions while you guys have your fun."

"We're guests here... and sex would be loud and messy with odors that would likely offend our hosts."

The Pa made a sound remarkably like a snort, although her face didn't match the motion... there, she only rolled her eyes. "I don't know, if you ask me, these primitive prudes could benefit from seeing a little more simple love and affection... if they did, maybe they wouldn't be so obsessed with making war." But she turned back to look at the now flabbergasted Security Council. "But, as I was saying, the United States still has quite a ways to go, although we might eventually deal with individual states if you can't get your act together as a whole. However, let me be clear, no population who maintains backward laws against _either_ homosexuality or consensual incest will be getting off this planet, or getting access to our technol..."

At this point, the screen went completely blank, as the television turned off. Mom stood up, remote still in her hand, said, "Well, that's enough of that. Just our luck, aliens finally land on Earth and it turns out they're a bunch of sick _perverts._"


	3. The Apple

For a building constructed by aliens, using technologies she couldn't even guess at, Cheryl was surprised by how average the Pa-Var Visitor Center was at first glance. Or second glance, as soon as she put her regular glasses back on and could see clearly more than twenty feet ahead. As she gazed around, taking it all in, she picked up only a few notes that struck her as unearthly... the light, for example, seemed to be a little more red than she was used to seeing. It wasn't dramatic, just enough to make white walls look the most delicate shade of pink. She actually liked the effect though, figuring it'd hide blushes, which she hated people seeing on her face. Similarly, the air was just slightly warmer than a good air conditioning... not enough to be uncomfortable normally, but not as much of a relief from the outside as she'd expected. She was still uncomfortably aware, in the hoodie she wore, of her body and the sweat dripping down it, worried that others were aware too, but she tried to focus instead on the novelty of the place, or lack thereof. 

Nothing in particular was out of line from what she expected, for she'd seen pictures and read plenty of commentary from visitors joking about how the facilities put up by the Perverts resembled a red light district (of course, _that_ nickname stuck, the word 'Perverts' was already far too close to 'Pa-Var' for it not to catch on once the world saw the UN speech), but Cheryl still thought, in person, she'd feel it as more viscerally alien than she did. Maybe it was just because she had to pass through a throng of screaming protesters to get here, that it couldn't help but feel more normal and calming inside, or maybe there was just a natural variation between outposts, and some had a more human-friendly atmosphere. 

The overall feel of this one was something between a hotel lobby and a museum. It was open (at least, the half of it on the ground floor, for the other half was all raised by at least one story), with comfortable looking couches, and weird single-colored abstract sculptures at various point. No music, at least not of a structured kind she could call that, though there was the ambient sounds of birds and water from the nearby shore, possibly amplified just enough to be heard from outside, broken up by the occasional very soft chime. Although it was a little weird not to hear music, or muzak, what sounds there were still felt very natural, at least, natural for Earth. Nobody who looked obviously alien was visible, either, though a few humans milled around, inspecting various displays. 

The first sign that they were anywhere other than a slightly off-kilter human art installation was the first of these pedestals, something that looked a little like two abstract hands clasping. When they got near it, words appeared in the air, in multiple languages, but with English the most prominent since they were, after all, in America. "Welcome to the Pa-Var Visitor Center." Unlike the Perverts label, they quickly and enthusiastically adopted that particular nickname, sensing 'Outpost' sounded too ominous and 'Embassy' too formal. "We hope you learn and enjoy your time here! However, if you come here seeking medical treatment, know there is no one trained in human medicine on premises, so you should go to the nearest hospital or one of our designated Mercy Centers." Justin made an amused grunt, and Cheryl had to privately laugh at herself... she always mocked when science fiction shows, even _Star Trek_, had gaudy holographic interfaces where a plain sign would do just as well, and here she was, finding out that advanced people did just that.   
The holography did a little more than a sign could, because as soon as they were done reading, two maps also appeared, one local, one of the country, highlighting locations where people could go for help. Which was one thing in their favor, the Pa-Var might refuse to share their technology or help a government that didn't live up to their strange standards, but they were willing to help _individual_ people in certain circumstances. A fact Cheryl and her brother were depending on. 

Since the help they were looking for wasn't really medical, they moved past this first sign and towards the next table, which had what looked like a pile of cylinders. As they got closer to it, a sign flared up, "If you're hungry, enjoy this sample of a Kenrie dish, modified for human nutritional requirements," and she realized they were weren't formed solid pieces but rather folded, like a burrito.

"Ooh," Justin said, and grabbed one.

"We _just_ ate," she pointed out.

"Yeah, well, I didn't know they were going to have _alien_ food." He grabbed another of the burrito-things and passed it to Cheryl. "Come on, you know you want to see what it's like."

She did, but she waited until Justin took a bite and chewed it thoughtfully. "What's it like?" It was something she almost always did when trying some new food, she liked to watch him try it first and let him prepare her for the experience... it was silly, not the least because they didn't always have the same tastes, and often he liked things she hated, or vice versa, and even when he said something was really bad, she tried it to see for herself anyway, but it comforted her nonetheless to hear an opinion before forming her own. Even if she knew he'd sometimes lie just to mess with her, holding back his disgust long enough to trick her into trying the awfulness too and sharing in his pain... that risk was, bizarrely, just part of the greater comfort. 

This time, he seemed to be sincerely evaluating the food, no games. He took a second, swallowed. "It's a bit weird. It's like... someone made a soft taco, with lettuce, tomato, cheese, and so on, only instead of spicy beef they put in oatmeal. With... I don't know, some kind of banana flavor in it maybe, instead of being spicy? It's too bad, I was hoping for something more like _hasperat_. Remember that?" 

The memory of their attempt to recreate a Bajoran dish from _Star Trek_ made her smile, and she nodded, then got distracted as the holographic display shifted, now informing them, "Kenrie would only eat this dish in private, but you are free to enjoy it however you wish."

While Justin read this, he absent-mindedly took a second bite so it clearly wasn't entirely objectionable, though this one was smaller. "Hey, Cheryl, which ones are the Kenrie again?"  
She'd done her research, of course, plenty of it... it helped calmed her nervousness about the whole plan, to know what they might be encountering, even if it was a longshot. But there were so many of the alien races listed on the Pa-Var website, it was hard for Cheryl to remember all the details of every one, particularly when she hadn't seen anything but the very short video clips they provided with each entry. She'd tried to narrow it down to a few details for each to spark her memory, and this particular name... "Tails and veils, I think?" She finally worked up the courage to try her own bite then... and found her brother's description was pretty apt, at least as far as it went with the mouthfeel, although she didn't notice anything like banana... if anything she thought it tasted raisiny, only without the actual texture of the raisiny. She could eat it if she had to, she decided. 

"Gotta say, this cuisine probably isn't the _best_ first impression they could make," Justin said, though he did finish the whole burrito, despite the sandwich he'd just eaten. Maybe he was just being polite. Cheryl looked down at her own, wondering if she could do the same, or if she'd have to carry it or discretely try and put it back or find a garbage... she could feel her anxiety rising at considering the options without knowing which would be best, whether one or the other might doom their whole plan. 

"They've had better," a new voice said, practically making Cheryl jump from surprise. She hadn't heard somebody approaching them, which was another unearthly thing she hadn't noticed until that moment. The floor felt hard, but footsteps barely made a noise that could be heard above the seafront sounds. Cheryl turned to look at the woman who'd startled her... if she was a woman at all, considering the abilities of the Pa. But she seemed human, normal-sized eyes, light brown skin, dark hair, a wide smile, and dressed in a floral-pattern dress. She seemed around their age, or maybe a little older. The woman continued, "They choose a different sample dish every day. A few days ago they had these crunchy spicy things that were like, better than _Fritos_. I could hardly stop eating them. And they refill every time they get low, so... I very nearly made myself sick that day. Hi, I'm Patty." Human, Cheryl decided, at least probably, which somehow made her stomach roil. Even with the meds she'd taken, she needed some time to prepare herself for a conversation before she trusted herself, and she was still holding the stupid Kenrie burrito which made her feel awkward. So, she found herself unconsciously stepping behind her brother. 

He took the cue, or his own natural gregariousness took over. "Hi, Patty," he said with a smile. "Do you work here or something?"

She laughed. "Oh, heavens no. The Pa-Var don't have any human employees. I just come here a lot. I can help you find something if you like. Let me guess... scavenger hunt?"

Even though she wasn't really ready to engage with a stranger, the strangeness of the question broke Cheryl out of her expectations enough that she asked, "What?"

"Sorry. I just like to sort of... guess why people come here. I'm always fascinated by the reasons. Judging by your schoolbags, I thought you might be here for a scavenger hunt." They were backpacks, not a schoolbag, since they weren't going to school, but Cheryl didn't make the point out loud, and so Patty continued. "You know, '_take a selfie with one of the Principles, ten points_,' that sort of thing."

"Really. You get a lot of that?"

She shrugged. "Some, especially with high school and college kids. A selfie with Mialin would probably be worth fifty."

"Mialin?" Justin asked. "That's... one of the Pa-Var?" 

"Yeah. The Pa who's stationed here, in fact. I don't know where he or she is right now."

"He or she?"

"The Pa have _something_ like gender, for reproduction, but it's something about energy types, so they don't really neatly break down into male or female, so I just go with how they look, since they can look however they want. Mialin likes to change it up on a regular basis, so when he looks male I use '_he_', and if she looks female I use '_she_.' But I haven't seen Mialin at all today, so I don't know which is appropriate until he or she makes an appearance."

Although it hadn't faded completely, Cheryl's anxiety had lessened enough that she felt she could speak. "You could just use '_they_' instead," she pointed out. "Lots of people use the singular _they_." Including one of her friends... though, with a sinking feeling that threatened to swallow her whole, she remembered that they may well be an _ex-_friend, now. The same went for everybody else back home. 

"Mmm," Patty said, in the way that people sometimes do when they don't agree but don't want to fight about it, and Cheryl decided she didn't like this person. "Anyway, what brings you here?"

"Oh, you know, curiosity," Justin said. "We haven't had a chance to see a Center yet. We just got into town. I figured there'd be more people here."

Patty joined Justin in looking around at the handful of people visible in the building. "We used to have a lot more, but... honestly, this place isn't exactly the draw it used to be. We're not a Mercy Center, and we don't get a lot here for the food samples ever since they started offering the same stuff to any local restaurant who promised to also feed the homeless for free. You still get people popping in to learn the Pa-Var 'philosophy' but their so-called moral lessons are all available online now, and online you don't have that parade of idiots outside. There's always a few tourists, but I think by now most people had their look and left disappointed."

"What about you?" Justin asked. "You sound like you're here all the time."

"Not all the time, but I try to come in a few days a week. I just like to help people... including the Pa-Var. They may be more technologically advanced, but that doesn't mean they don't need _our_ help, too. They think _they're_ the ones who are morally superior, but we all know they're pretty off-base in a lot of ways. It's our duty to try and teach them the error of their ways." 

"Oh, so... you work for the government?" What she said was pretty much the official policy of the US government... the line about '_they may be more technologically advanced_' was parroted directly from a speech from the White House Press Secretary. Cheryl didn't entirely disagree with the philosophy, but also knew that it was their way of saving face, like the only way they can justify allowing the 'Perverts' to set up centers like these, to teach their ways, is if they tell themselves that American morality was still going to win out in the end. 

Patty laughed at Justin's question. "I _wish._ Then I'd be getting paid. No, my church asked for volunteers, so I come in on days when I'm not working and try to teach Mialin about where the Pa-Var are going wrong."

Cheryl's anxiety kicked back up a notch. It had been slowly fading as she'd convinced herself that Patty was harmless, if a little annoying and too talkative with strangers to make her entirely comfortable... there would always be some underlying envy about her confidence and poise, among other concerns, many of which she knew were completely irrational. Now, though, she realized it was completely rational to believe that this woman might be, in some ways, be a danger... not because they necessarily disagreed about the Pa-Var, but just because she might, somehow, get in the way of what they came here to do. Her stomach roiled again, and she tugged at Justin's sleeve to try and signal him that they should move on. 

He didn't seem to notice. Maybe he didn't think it was a threat. Probably he was attracted to her. She certainly was pretty... another thing for the envy category. "And how does Mialin react to that?" he asked.

"To be honest, mostly condescending politeness. Actually, Mialin's a bit of a flake and doesn't even make an appearance on most days. But even when he or she's not here, I can still help the _humans_, point out the flaws in the vaunted Principles. I mean a lot of people get taken in, because they sound good... unless you think through the consequences. It's not just the weird sexual stuff, which, like, _should_ be obvious but isn't to a lot of people. Many of the Pa-Var ideas start from a good place and would be fine if they stayed there, but they get too wrapped up in the idea and lead you to disturbing implications." She waved her hand to a sculpture in the distance that looked a little like a bird with open wings sitting on a rock. "Like the _Principle of Ownership_, that you can only own what you create or was freely given, sold, or traded to you, and that people can never be owned. That's a great moral principle. And I know not _everyone_ agrees, but I'm even with them as far as saying people shouldn't be able to own weapons that can only harm others. But then they make this weird leap to saying too much property can _itself_ be considered a weapon that can only harm others. And I'm sorry, but that's socialism and I'm pretty sure we fought a World War against _that_ kind of thinking. As far as I'm concerned, their philosophies are like the Apple, you know, from the Garden of Eden?" 

Neither of them had ever been especially religious... or at least, if Donnie was, he kept it pretty private... but they knew the basics. Patty continued, undaunted by not getting more than a blank stare in response, "The apple might seem pretty appealing, but once you know what you're getting into, it's not worth the bite. And the Pa-Var, they don't want just you to bite, they want you to swallow the _whole_ thing." She smiled, a weary, patient smile, and then was quick to add, "Maybe that's an exaggeration. I don't think the Pa-Var are actually _evil_, clearly they mean well, but sometimes they just take their ideas too far without questioning. Maybe their own history was really lucky--or really unlucky since they don't seem to have Jesus. Maybe they're just wired differently... but I'm certain of one thing, their Principles just aren't going to work when humans are involved."

Cheryl was mostly only listening to be polite at this point. She certainly didn't agree with all the Pa-Var said but didn't consider _socialism_ a dirty word like Patty seemed to. And even though it might just have been a legend, the famous Apple granted knowledge, which made it worth leaving the Garden of Eden in her book. But there was one thing Patty said that had a direct bearing on them. Justin picked up on it too. "Wait, so Mialin might not even _be_ here today? At all?"

"In the building? Probably. Willing to see people?" She gave an exaggerated shrug, one that said, "_Who knows?_" Seeing the disappointment on Justin's face, she asked, "You wanted to meet one of the aliens yourself?"

"Kinda, yeah."

"I knew it. You're not just tourists, are you? You came here specifically to talk to Mialin."

"I mean it doesn't have to be Mialin... but we do want to talk to a representative of the Pa-Var. We have kind of a special request?" Patty made a doubtful 'mm-hmm' sound. "Any chance you can help us out, Patty?"

"Well..." she began, as though she might be about to suggest something, then stopped. "You know, I just realized, I didn't even catch your names..."

Cheryl tensed again, sensing some sort of trap, but she felt that about a lot of perfectly innocent conversations. Her brother, on the other hand, must have felt a genuine personal connection would help, took the question smoothly... at least, at first. "Oh, right. I'm sorry. I'm Justin, and this is Cheryl, my..."

She could see it then, her normally socially adept brother hesitating, worried using their real names might have been a mistake, uncertain on exactly what to say now that they were out, conscious not just of Patty but also the potential that the Pa-Var might be listening in on their conversation through an invisible security system. It was even possible Patty herself was a plant, working for the Pa-Var... maybe even one of the Pa herself. Or if she wasn't, the wrong answer might turn her against them. He wasn't sure exactly what he should say. It was only an instant's pause, but before long it would turn noticeable, raise its own questions. So, before that could happen, Cheryl blurted out the first explanation that came to mind. "Girlfriend. I'm his girlfriend." She was grateful again for the soft pink light. Her face felt very warm saying it. 

Justin didn't miss a beat. "Yeah."

And perhaps Cheryl's worries were for nothing, for Patty didn't react like she recognized their names, or was any less friendly than she had been before. At most, Cheryl thought she might have seen a hint of regret that Justin was 'taken,' which she knew could have been her imagination. "Well, Justin, Cheryl... I can't promise I can get you in to see Mialin, anytime soon anyway. He or she might be doing that meditating thing the Pa do instead of sleep. However, there are kiosks where you can talk to one of their AIs, to at least request a private audience." Yes, Cheryl remembered, they'd heard about this, although not the precise location. Patty pointed to the half of the building that was up the stairs. "Up there, on the platform. They look like metal flowers and don't do anything unless you speak to them. The one at the very end of the hall is probably closest to Mialin's 'office,' but that probably doesn't matter."

"Thank you," Justin said. "We really appreciate this."

"Yeah, thanks..." Cheryl added, hoping she sounded sincere. And she was... she might still have a bad feeling about Patty, but she had tried to help. 

"Just..." Patty paused, bit her lip for half a second, then warned, "Whatever it is you want from them? Go in with lowered expectations. Even if Mialin is willing to see you at all, you probably won't get what you want out of it. The Pa-Var may not _want_ to crush dreams, but they're so good at it that they can do it without even trying. They can be _incredibly_ frustrating."

A bitter chuckle escaped Cheryl. "Yeah, we know all about that." 

\--

Cheryl hadn’t meant to yell out loud, but the frustration, the disappointment was so palpable that a wordless cry escape her lips followed by a “Goddamnit!”

A second later, there was a light tapping sound, her brother’s knuckles drumming on her open door. “Everything okay?”

She looked up at Justin, wrapped in a towel from the waist down, bare from the waist up, still a little wet in the hair and light moisture seeming to highlight his lean muscular form. That was unfair too, that guys could walk around like that, no shirt or anything, but if she did he’d probably freak out. Not that she _cared_ if he went around half-naked, or wanted to herself, just on general principle, that was wrong… but she wasn’t going to get distracted by picking that particular fight again, especially when freshly wounded from a different and far more personal injustice. 

“Yeah, it’s fine, it’s just… look at _this_!” She turned her tablet in his direction, and he took it for permission to enter her room and sat down beside her on the bed, not actually touching but close enough that he could read along with her and she could smell the pleasant shampoo he used… slightly herby-smelling, with a comforting underlying smell she couldn’t identify. “I was browsing the Pa-Var site, and… look what they just posted.”

“Study in the stars,” Justin read along with the ad. “Learn about the other aliens in the Pa-Var alliance the way the Pa-Var do, at this mobile university-equivalent experience on board one of the Pa-Var nomad-ships, a vessel capable of housing the population of a small Earth city, with extensive areas devoted to simulated natural environments, and the ability to travel at many thousands of times the speed of light. Improve yourself with a voyage of discovery as you make friends, contacts, and love among the diverse population of other students (consisting of dozens of species), actually visit a variety of worlds inside and outside the galactic community to see how their societies function, and be among the first to learn directly from alien knowledge.” The more he spoke, the more excited he got, and she almost hated to do this to him, take him down the same path she’d followed. But it was too late to stop now. "Oh my god," he said. "You _have_ to apply for this."

"No, I _can't_..."

"No, Cheryl, listen to me, you _have_ to." He gently touched her arm. "I know you're probably freaking out right now about even the possibility. And that's because it's something you _know_ you want. You have the heart of an explorer. I know the anxiety's going to tell you it's not something you can do. I have faith in you. You're smarter than me. If anyone deserves to go, you do, and if you don't at least _try_, you'll regret it."

The pep talk was nice, and she always felt warm inside when he talked about her with corny but poetic phrases like '_heart of an explorer_', but at the same time she was disappointed. In some ways he knew her so well, in others he just missed the mark. If _anyone_ should know the ins and outs of her anxiety, he should, but he still got it wrong... because she would _absolutely_ apply to the program. She didn't believe she had any hope of being chosen, and if by some miracle she was, _that's_ when anxiety would kick in and she probably would have about a dozen panic attacks the closer she got to making a final decision (and especially if she had to talk to somebody as part of the process). But applying? That would be a snap. If it were possible.

"Come on, I'll do it too. I mean, you've got a better shot of getting in than me, but we've got nothing to lose... you're already ready for strange new frontiers, why not go all the way?"

The '_strange new frontiers_' line was too old to even make the corner of her lip turn up, but she still appreciated it, a private joke that started during a trip to Cape Canaveral and somebody on the tour who recognized their matching Trek shirts mangled the classic '_explore strange new worlds_' speech, mashing it together with '_final frontier_' leading the two to repeat it later in the hotel room, speculating on what counted as _strange new frontiers_. Eventually, they settled on anything new and a little bit scary being described as a strange new frontier.

But this frontier was not for them. "Read the fine print." Amazing how the Pa-Var had adapted that little aspect of human communication... or maybe they had something similar. She swiped down to the bottom of the page and pointed. 

"'_This program is currently not available to citizens of the nations of Earth due to moral deficiency._' Wow, that's just _cruel_."

"Hence the '_Goddamnit!_'" she shook her head. "They probably did that on purpose. Get people all excited about something so they'll lobby congress." It was the same way they seemed to do everything, show how much they could help people if only humanity would 'evolve' to their standards but hold back actual benefits until they did. Well, not everything. They did some miraculous cures of medical problems at their Mercy Centers, but even that was at least partly to show off what a paradise they could make of Earth if only we were worthy. By their unusual standards.

"Probably," Justin agreed. "Wish it _was_ a real offer. Sounds a bit like an alien version of that old show you downloaded and were obsessed with when you were in your full-on Ryan Gosling crush."

"It wasn't a crush," she said for what felt like the thousandth time. "I just appreciated the man's work and wanted to see his early stuff." It might have been a little bit of a crush. But she'd never admit it, even if only out of principle. After a pause, she said. "I really do wish we could apply though. It would be so amazing. All the things you could learn." She'd been so excited about the revolutions in science that would come from the Pa-Var and their technology, but so far they'd revealed very little... how incredible it would be to go to a school for them.

Justin had slightly different, but not incompatible dreams, and sighed wistfully, "Going, _literally_, where no man has gone before. No human, anyway."

She fell backwards onto her bed, brushed some hair off her face, then stared up at the ceiling. "Would you _really_ apply to it if you could, or were you just saying that to try and get me to?"

"Oh, I _absolutely_ would. If nothing else, a travelling alien space university would charge a lot less tuition than the American system." 

"I wish there was a way we could go," she said again. "Or if the UN would pass those stupid resolutions." They'd been stonewalled so far, several of the countries of the security council, including the US, using their veto on anything that even approached what the Pa-Var called comprehensive human rights reform. "I mean, it's not like they'd affect _us_ any, right?"

Justin shifted a little towards the edge. "Uh, yeah, right. Anyway, speaking of tuition, I had better get my stupid uniform on so I can get back to the grind of saving up for mine."   
She felt the weight of him leave her bed and looked over. "I wish..." she didn't finish it. There was no point in saying your wishes, it wouldn't make them more likely to come true. "I mean, I hope you have a good day at work. As good as you can, anyway."

He smiled back, like he sensed the deeper sympathy beneath the everyday wish. "Hey. It's not so bad. It's good experience, and I like my co-workers."

"It just sucks that you have to work so _much_."

He shrugged, started out the door without looking back. "Yeah, well, it's my own fault. It'll teach me to be more careful." Justin claimed he spent too much on his Europe trip, and because of that he didn't think he could go to his college of choice in January after all, at least not without working two jobs while taking a full course load. So he thought it was better to put it off another year and build up some savings, but he still said he planned on going. That part might have been true, she hoped it was, but she knew the delay wasn't because he screwed up. He'd been lying, and she knew it, but couldn't confront him on it, for a host of reasons but mostly she thought it was her own cowardice. Still, it hurt that he was hiding it and she wished he wouldn't. He disappeared from sight, then came back to pop his head back in the door. "Hey, maybe it won't be on a cool university ship but... we'll get out there, one day. Don't forget Starfleet's motto. _Per Aspera, Ad Astra._" 

"That's from NASA first, with the Apollo program. And I think it's the other way around." Though she wasn't sure about that, she saw it both ways, she was just arguing for the sake of it, because with him, there were no real stakes to an argument. Either way, the saying meant, essentially, "_a rough road leads to the stars_." 

He grinned, shook his head at her correction. "You are _such_ a nerd."

It wasn't an insult coming from him, but it was fun to play as though it was. "Says the guy who tried to cheer me up with an obscure _Star Trek_ reference." Still, it worked, memories of when they were younger, two nerdy kids binging on a show after hearing their father had loved it, and coming to love it themselves. The shared passion also served as a special, semi-private nerd-language they had, obscure references that most people wouldn't get... even Mom, who watched the show but only on a casual level. Cheryl, over the years, turned a few of her friends on to the show too, but even though it was fun having more people to talk to about something she loved, nothing matched just lying in bed together with her brother, sharing their favorite show. Which wasn't to say they were perfectly in synch about it... Justin was more into the original era and _Deep Space 9_, and Cheryl liked _Voyager_ for the female characters and _The Next Generation_ because often solved their problems without violence or yelling. Nor was it the only geeky habit they had in common, or that they obsessed over together, but somehow _Star Trek_ was always their thing, like a comfort food... it didn't matter what was playing, or how many times they'd seen it, if one was watching an episode the other tended to join them. Except the newest, which they both still watched, but sometimes separately because their lives had gotten busy and it was just easier that way. She was sad about that, but the new stuff wasn't quite the same experience, anyway... she still liked it, but Tilly made her uncomfortable because she saw too much she didn't like about herself there. "In fact, you used an obscure Trek reference that's _also_ a Latin phrase, about going through hardships, which, I don't know _how_ is supposed to cheer me up, but still probably means you outrank me on nerdery. Nerd."

"Fair. And we can always cut out the '_aspera_' part and just say '_ad astra_.' To the stars, one way or another. Where there's one way, there's bound to be another, easier one. We just have to find it. It might take a while, but, we'll get there."


	4. Sanctuary

They were almost there, though walking down the eerie hallway that didn't even echo back their footsteps, it all felt a little unreal to Justin, like walking through a dream. The circumstances that led them there were strange enough to be one... sometimes he half-expected to just wake up and be back at home and aliens were still a myth and he'd be telling his sister the story over the breakfast table. Not _all_ of the story, some of it he'd leave out as too _out there_, fine for a dream but would make people wonder what was rattling around in his subconscious to come up with those particular details. Not to mention it would probably make Cheryl uncomfortable... which made it even weirder to be walking down this hallway _with_ her, living it. 

There were only a few people on this upper floor, but both of them kept walking past any of the flower-shaped kiosks where someone was nearby, unconsciously aiming for Patty's suggestion of the one near Mialin's office. Where they might wind up seeing Patty again, or rather someone who _looked_ like her, as she'd warned them just before they left her for the ramp. "Oh, just to give you a heads up," she'd said the moment they turned away. "You know the Pa can shapechange, right? Or look like whatever they want, anyway?" They'd both nodded... who _wasn't_ aware of the supposed energy-matrix nature of the species? What they looked like was just a function of the light that came off them, and modulating that was easily within their abilities. "Well, sometimes Mialin likes to use my face to talk to people I've been talking to... I don't know why, I think it's to tease me or something. Or maybe make you trust me less after. Anyway, you can _always_ tell it's her and not me. The Pa have this aesthetic principle they love called Broken Symmetry? Like, they hate when they make things too symmetrical... and that includes what they look like. They always need to break it up with, like, different eye colors or hair longer on one side of the face than the other, or in their clothes. And of course they always wear jewelry, which is their translator... without it they can't understand a thing we say."   
He doubted that much. Who knew what they could do? They might see right through him and his sister and the reasons that brought them there, send them home in failure and humiliation and possibly worse. If not, a careless word could do the same thing...

Justin took a deep breath, realized his heart was pounding, and then looked beside him to his sister. If _he_ was getting anxious, what about _her_? This situation contained a bunch of her anxiety triggers... being in an unfamiliar place, talking to people she didn't really know, big stakes. She said she'd taken some of her medication on the way, but he hadn't seen it. Mom had been opposed to Cheryl taking regular anxiety meds, thinking it was something needed to learn to deal with, which always seemed a little backwards to Justin, but at least she allowed these pills that gave her a short burst of relief when it got particularly bad, or she was worried it would. He was worried that attitude made her ashamed of taking meds, maybe even enough to only pretend to take them. He didn't really think that was the case, because she seemed pretty composed... so those pills were probably a lifesaver right now. Pills or no pills, he was still incredibly proud of the way she was handling it all. Or seemed to be. He also knew the meds didn't always work, and Cheryl had a tendency to suffer in silence. If she was melting down, he might only tell from shaking hands or legs. He didn't think it was happening yet, but it might not hurt to distract her, to give her a chance to ask for help or back out if that's what she needed to do. 

A window provided the perfect opportunity. He stopped, looking out at the view. "Wow, look at that." It was the Ivory Tower, again, but a better vantage point than they'd had before, no buildings in the way. Cheryl stopped and stood on her toes, as though it would grant her a significantly different view of the massive column in the distance. People joked that, of course, because it was built by the Perverts, it looked like a big dong, though he always thought that was a huge stretch. He didn't see that at all. What he did see was the Broken Symmetry thing Patty mentioned, as it was dramatically taller on one side than the other. Maybe it looked a little like some animal dongs he'd stumbled across on the Internet (or rather, rubber things supposedly modeled on them), which was perhaps even more Perverted but probably not intentional. He decided not to point out that similarity here though, and instead went with a question that would get her to think instead of feel. "Do you think there's people working there, or it's all automated?"

"I don't know," she said with a terseness that made him think his strategy wasn't going to work. But after a few seconds, she added, "There's so many towers it makes more sense that _most_ of them are automated. Especially with the Visitor Centers nearby, seems like a lot to have people at every one of both. Even if there was just one at each it would still be thousands of people. They probably control it remotely... maybe this Mialin person controls this one. But they also serve as launch pads so maybe they do have people because of that?" His sister shrugged, still looking out there, but now her thoughts on a new topic. "They grow, you know? The towers. As they suck more carbon out of the atmosphere." He did know, but he let her talk anyway. "They're already about 4% bigger than they were when they landed. Maybe we'll learn exactly how it works sometime soon. If we're lucky."

He wasn't sure if she meant them personally, or humanity in general. Scientists had certainly proposed a lot of methods they could be using, but the Pa-Var flatly refused to discuss it and observations were inconclusive and occasionally contradicted the best models Earth science had, either working too efficiently or without secondary effects they would expect to see from a particular technique. "It'll be _fine_," he said. "We just go in there, tell the truth, and hope for the best." Of course he didn't mean _The Truth_, but he expected Cheryl would be bright about to know, to take the hint that they might still be observed. 

"If they listen," she said. "If they care." 

He had to fight to keep from smiling, to keep looking worried, this time not for her sake but because if they were watching, a smile that was too impressed might just waste that excellent performance. "Come on," he said, offering his hand, thinking she must be ready, or at least, ready enough. "Hope for the best, and if not... I don't know."

She took it, and they walked together to the last of the flower kiosks before the hall ended in a blank wall. "Hello?" he said. "Is someone here? Like, I'm told there's supposed to be an AI or something?"

They almost jumped at the soft, breathy, gender-neutral but ASMR-inducing voice. "Welcome, how may I help you?"

After looking around to confirm that it actually was a voice from the air and not a human who snuck up on them, Justin said, "We would like to speak to Mialin. I mean, the Pa-Var representative stationed here? I was told their name was Mialin." What if Patty had lied, or she had been talking to the equivalent of the Pa-Var janitor and the real Pa-Var was somewhere else? Jesus, the anxiety really was getting to him, too, this close to the decision point. 

"Mialin is indeed the official Pa-Var representative here. What is this regarding?"

"We, uh... have some things we need to ask them."

"Mialin is currently busy, but I may be able to help you with any questions. While I'm not a conscious entity, I'm capable of conversing on a human level."

"Do you know when Mialin will be available?"

"Mialin has not set a schedule. I am qualified to answer any questions about the Pa-Var that Mialin would, however. I am aware, so to speak, because I'm not _actually_ aware at all, that humans sometimes have an unreasoning prejudice speaking with artificial intelligences, and so if you wish you may wait, but if you do, giving me more details about the specific nature of your request could help shorten the time before an answer is given to you."

Cheryl tugged on his arm to get his attention, then with a tilt of her head and widened eyes, suggested he speak more... and, he felt, not simply to be more open with the AI, but to use the so-called _magic words_, the one phrase that it was suggested they use if they had trouble getting in to talk to one of the Pa-Var authorities, the beings that might decide their entire future. "We want... I mean, we _need_ to apply for refugee status."

-

"Refugees?" Justin asked. Had he heard correctly? Maybe not.. he was, just a little, fuzzy brained from the beers he and his co-worker Lee had been drinking--at Lee's place because Justin was still below legal drinking age in the US. One more thing he missed about Europe. But Lee had invited him to play some console games and have a few beers at his place after their shift, and he took the opportunity to unwind a little. They weren't quite friends yet, by Justin's reckoning, but Lee was only a couple years older than him, and they'd had some fun conversations at work, so gaming and drinking with him seemed like it could be fun.

After the third beer they got to talking about the real aliens (as opposed to the ones they were murdering in-game... in fairness, there were also aliens on _their_ side in the game), and, when Lee said he, too, was eager to get off the planet to seek his fortune in the stars, Justin thought he found a kindred spirit. He had mentioned his sister getting all excited over the ad for the spaceship university only to discover it was all a propaganda scam, that there was no way to actually get in. 

That was when Lee, who was already familiar with the ad, said they could probably get in as refugees.

"Yeah," Lee explained. He was still playing the game, controlling an animated blue-armored figure through a blasted landscape. Justin had decided to take a break and just watch for a while, but now the game was far less interesting than what he was hearing. "It's the same with the Mars colonization plan. You can't just _join_ the colonization program... but refugees, they'll make an exception for. It's in all the fine print. That's what I'm planning on doing."

Justin knew, intellectually, that there were already humans on Mars... in fact, was a little jealous that someone got there before him, as taking that one small step that was also a giant leap was one of his childhood dreams. He even knew that everyone there was a refugee. Fleeing persecution or genocide in their own countries and, either unable to find a country to take them in or having decided to give up on their fates being decided by incompetent humans, many people agreed to an offer from the Pa-Var. Mars was in the process of being terraformed, as were a few other bodies in the solar system, allegedly for humanity's benefit once they were finally allowed to travel space... but it was hard to claim it that unless the colonies had a majority human population. Those who accepted the deal would have to live under Pa-Var Protectorship, but to many that meant simply the guarantee, backed up by alien force, of the basic human rights they were denied in their homelands. Other than the few rules the Pa-Var insisted on, humans were supposed to be allowed to create their own society and be the first pioneers on a new land. So, thousands went into Visitor Centers and never appeared on Earth again... this wasn't even a secret, as there was a FTL Internet link that the Pa-Var set up so people could still communicate with their families or friends (though of course they refused to explain how it worked). Some of the new colonists were even becoming celebrities for their stories of farming on Mars under the huge domes.

He hadn't connected any of that with the ad Cheryl saw, as, so far, only a tiny number of the new Martians were from what used to be called first world countries. "So, I guess they weren't just being jerks? That university program they offered wasn't just a propaganda campaign, they put it there for prospective refugees?"

"Oh, no, it was _totally_ propaganda," Lee said. "They're trying to agitate the population. But the best propaganda is real, you know? My thought, though? If they're going to do that, take advantage of it, use it against them. It's not just that university thing, there's tons of programs that aren't open to humans but that they'll let refugees take. There's an exploration corps." Justin's eyes widened at that prospect. That school might be the closest thing to Starfleet Academy, but an exploration corps sounded like the closest thing to _Starfleet_, which was even better. "A shipping union I think, independent asteroid miners or something. I'm going for the school, though, you learn alien technology you can come back and write your ticket."

"Wait, so you're saying... just _anybody_ can up and apply as a refugee and get into these programs?" The whole time? It could be _that_ easy?

Of course not. "No, not just anyone. I mean, you'd have to actually convince them you qualify as a refugee."

"Yeah, but..." Justin looked at his hand helplessly, his hopes, momentarily raised but now dashed. "How? I mean, it's not like either of us are persecuted or anything."

"_Aren't_ we? I mean, we're being denied opportunities." He seemed dead serious at first, but then broke into a smirk. "But you're right, we're at a disadvantage because we don't live in a shithole country that's trying to murder us. We can't just walk off to one of their centers and ask for... what do you call it... sanctuary... and not be laughed at. Unless maybe we were like, black or Muslim or something, and maybe not even then." Justin worried briefly about whether Lee was going to turn out to be one of those '_white Christians are the real victims_' idiots. He had no interest in friendship with those lot, but with what he said, Justin wasn't sure if Lee was complaining that those groups tended to get advantages because they claimed persecution, or acknowledging that they really did suffer more. "Except... if there was something _else_ that got us discriminated against. And maybe it's the _exact_ type of thing they're looking for." He looked around, furtively, as though worried someone might be spying on them in his basement, then went on in a lowered voice. "I've been talking to people, I've got some inside sources." Justin had known a lot of people with supposed inside sources. Most of them were full of crap, he found. But, he was always willing to listen just in case. Lee said, "Most refugee applicants? They'll only give you a ticket to Mars anyway. For the more elaborate opportunities, they're more interested in a specific _type_ of people... and it just happens to be just about the _only_ thing in this country that they will absolutely consider someone a refugee for." 

Justin waited for the punchline. "Come on, man, don't hold out. This has basically been my sister's dream, like, even since before the aliens came." His too. 

"Only thing is, it doesn't work just solo. You kind of need two." Lee held up two fingers for just long enough to make his point, then grinned and went back to controlling his character. "So, the question is, how much do you love your sister?"

"Just _tell_ me."

"I don't know if I should. I mean, I'm planning on doing this myself, once I get some things sorted out. You doing it might screw things up for me..."

"Dude," he said imploringly.

He paused the game, leaned towards Justin. It seemed like he was one of those people who couldn't resist sharing a secret, which didn't make it any more likely his information was true, but it did make it more believable that he wasn't _intentionally_ lying. So, Justin leaned in to listen. "I'm just saying, remember their first press conference? If you go up to one of those Visitor Centers, with your sister, and present yourselves as an _incestuous_ couple..." 

Lee settled back in his chair, point made after he stressed the loaded, dangerous, almost forbidden word. Ever since the press conference, Justin and his sister, or their mother, had never used the word in the house, a tacit agreement, like they were collectively afraid that if they said _it_ out loud, the moment anything else positive was said about the Pa-Var, one of the others might might assume they were okay with, even interested, in the _incest_ as well. So they might occasionally refer to the Pa-Var perversions, but always abstractly, collectively, since it could refer to one of many... for instance, the aliens didn't see sex with animals as anything to make a fuss about about either, as long as it wasn't causing severe suffering to the animal, although thankfully they didn't insist on _that_ being legal on Earth as a requirement for being considered morally evolved.   
"My sister and I aren't _like_ that," he said, although a wild thought dashed across his brain '_You said you'd do anything to get to space... you promised her you'd find some way._' He pushed it down and concentrated on trying not to sound judgey. "I mean, if you and your... wait, you don't have a sister, do you?" He thought he remembered an earlier conversation where Lee said he was an only child.

Lee was already playing again, seemingly distracted as he said, "No, but I'm this close to talking Mom into it."

Now he couldn't help but sound judgey. "You're trying to talk your mom into _incest_?!"

Lee practically giggled, with a little snort on the end. "Oh, man... you are so adorable. No, of course not, what do you _think_, I'm some sort of freak? I'm talking about _faking_ it, telling the Perverts what they want to hear so we get on the refugee gravy train. The deluxe gravy train. Like I said, they don't want Joe Migrant applying to their schools, full of prejudices, maybe going to preach to them all the time. But if they think you already accept their perverted life style, because _you're_ a pervert too... then the universe is your oyster."

It actually wasn't _that_ dumb a plan, Justin realized, _if_ it worked, if the Pa-Var couldn't mind-read or something. They always claimed they couldn't, moreover, _wouldn't_, that they respected privacy, but one never knew for sure. "And your mom's _okay_ with this?"

"Hey, she always wanted me to go to college. And alien college? It's literally the best opportunity a person can get these days. She not thrilled with the idea, but she knows I don't want to work at Best Buy my whole life."

"Yeah, but... pretending _that_."

"Just long enough to get in. It's not like I'm taking her to college _with_ me... the whole point is to expose the people there to as many different points of view, so the Pa-Var don't like to assign couples to the same ship. At least that's what the people I've been talking to say, and they've seen it done before. So Mom gets to start a new pioneer life on Mars, which believe me, is cushier than _any_ farm life here, full of advanced medicine and technology, and meanwhile I'm having fun in alien college, learning marketable skills and banging hot alien chicks." 

Justin laughed. "Hot alien chicks, huh?" 

"Hey, some of those pictures, they got on their websites? More than a few that I'd fuck, just pretend I'm with, like, a cosplayer or something. And maybe I'll get lucky and have sex with a Pa."

"How do you even... they're _energy beings_."

He shrugged. "They still got a body, sorta. Might work. Worth a shot, anyway... I mean you've seen them... they're all like hot punk runway models. I'll figure out the mechanics when I get there. If not, plenty of others."

Justin shook his head with a smirk. He could imagine Lee Captain Kirking his way through the school. "Yeah, until they kick you out when they realize you made up the whole dating-your-mother story."

"How are they going to know?"

"I mean if you're _supposed_ to be together with your Mom, and you're cheating on her all the time..." 

Lee blew a puff of air out of his mouth derisively. "Sure, because people _never_ cheat." Of course they did, but it just seemed to Justin that if you were in a relationship like _that_, it would be more important to behave with honor than in any other, because if you did them wrong, you wouldn't just be screwing up a relationship, but your family as well. But Lee didn't think like that. "Hell, plenty of the aliens are poly. I can say that too. It might even help me out... play the sympathy card. 'I can't be with the one I love, but...' Yeah, take it, bitch!" That was directed at the screen, where there was now a flaming smoking ruin where an enemy alien used to be. 

"You're bent, man." But Justin said it in an amused, tolerant tone. He wasn't sure what to make of Lee. 

"Hey, if the aliens taught us one thing is being _a little_ bent is okay. At least we're nowhere near as bad as them, right? It's just like a game, you want to get ahead, you exploit your enemy's weaknesses, right?"

He had to give the guy one thing, it was an audacious plan. Maybe he could tell Cheryl about this idea after all... not for themselves, of course, because there was no _way_ she'd go for it, but just as a funny story about a scheme his messed-up friend was trying. She might get a laugh out of it. And maybe she could think of some _other_ way to qualify as a refugee.


	5. Coming of Age

The wall split apart and opened into a small, cylindrical room about twenty seconds after they made their plea. No one was inside, and they stared at it wondering at the implied message for a few more before Cheryl realized the obvious. "It's like a turbolift."

"This will take you to Mialin," said the AI, then, and, even though Cheryl's racing heart and uneasy stomach said _'this is a trap, get out while you still can,'_ she strode forward anyway. After all, her body said that about most social situations involving people she wasn't already comfortable with. Justin followed, and the doors closed behind them. She snatched the glasses from her face and thrust them back into her pocket, knowing it was a stupid instinct but preferring to make a first impression without them all the same.

She didn't feel a sense of motion like in other elevators. It felt like the door closed, and then a few seconds later, opened again, on a different room. For all she knew, they were deep underground, or maybe even on another planet. The Pa-Var had been cagey about the limits of their technology. More likely, though, they were simply one floor down, just below the raised half of the open area of the Visitor Center. 

The dimensions seemed to fit, they were in a room about half the size of building's main floor, although the colors were much more varied and shifty, a kaleidoscope almost, and coming from no single source, the ceiling and even floors glowed softly. Like the Visitor Center itself, the room was divided, not symmetrical, with crystalline structures along one wall that evoked plantlife somehow, and a series of wall segments, completely detached from the actual wall, on the other, with a central concourse leading to a sleek alabaster desk with two metal chairs. Cheryl felt like it was all engineered to send a message, perhaps subconsciously, but all the same, signal _'we are alien from you, but we have taken efforts to make you humans more comfortable.'_

Nobody was behind the desk, but they heard a voice and saw a shape emerge from the crystalline garden. "This is a surprise," it said, in feminine tones, and when Cheryl looked in that direction, half-expecting to see Patty again, at first she thought she saw just a shadowy form, but then her eyes refocused and it was a beautiful woman. Incredibly beautiful. Cheryl often struggled with self-worth, particularly regarding her face and body, knew on some level she was fine, average, rather than outright ugly like her brain sometimes insisted, but she knew that next to this woman ugly was probably the only word that could apply to her.

The Pa, as Cheryl immediately guessed this must be, was actually less tall than her, but somehow both wispy and curvy in ways that complemented each other and made Cheryl feel bulky and lumbering by comparison. But it was more than mere body type, everything about this woman seemed glamorous, like she was comfortable and confident in who she was and didn't care who saw it. Mialin's hair was long on one side and shaved bald on the other, and on the bald side there was a trace of dots, like a constellation, on the side of her face, curled around one eye from her temple to her cheek bone. She wore a long dress, red and glittery like something at prom or Oscar night, and it too was very long on one side and very short on the other, down the floor by her left leg and leaving her right leg completely bare, while her right shoulder was covered with a short sleeve and her left was sleeveless (though with a tattoo that shifted). Completing the look was the translation device, a necklace, this one surprisingly symmetrical as far as Cheryl could tell.

Mialin's face was a picture of glee and she sounded excited as she revealed, "I don't often get to process a refugee application!" Unlike some of the Pa she had seen on the news, her lips also matched her words perfectly rather than looking like a bad anime dub, as her brother put it. "Honestly, that's part of the reason I asked for this assignment, you may be _backward_ in this country but at least I'm not going to be overwhelmed with needy people, except for your abominable medical situation, which, again, I'm glad _I_ don't have to deal with. Don't get me wrong, I _love_ helping people, and I just don't have the tolerance to look at _needless_ suffering all the time. But I _am_ excited to get a chance to help _you_." She steered them towards the desk and chair with a wave of her hand (short painted fingernails on her left, compared to long, unpainted on the right, Cheryl noticed, wondering how she could somehow look so perfect and put together with such a mishmash of styles playing out her body). "I know you humans like your structured settings, so let's go to the desk?" Without waiting for an answer, she swept past them, close enough to touch, almost, and Cheryl's near vision was still pretty good, so she got a close enough look to realize part of the secret of her inhuman beauty. She had no pores, as far as could be seen, nor blemishes that sometimes went with them. It was another way they were like living cartoon characters. No sound of footsteps, either, it was as though she walked on air, and she almost expected musical notes or foley work with every step.

A smell, though... one other thing that at least made it seem like she was there... of course, it was like the ozone smell after a rain, but fainter... it would have been easily overwhelmed if the crystal garden had actual flowers, or there was anything other than the smell of herself and her brother, both of which she'd grown nose-blind to. 

She and Justin exchanged a glance, then followed the Pa to the desk, sitting down at the offered seats, although Mialin didn't sit, just stood on the other side, which was a little imposing. Likewise was the way Mialin didn't speak right away, just smiled, seeming to wait for one of them to say something to begin the structured, ritual proportion of what they were about to do. This should be something Cheryl was able to handle, not free of anxiety but at least manageable, knowing what she was supposed to say and when. An interview by a stranger was in many ways like a performance on stage, as long as you knew what was coming and what your lines were going to be, and mostly, she did. It was just the starting it that was awkward. Seconds ticked by and she realized she would have to do it, Justin was waiting for Mialin, Mialin was waiting for one of them, and so Cheryl opened her mouth to speak. "What are your pronouns?" Her face flushed and she bit back a wince. She hadn't meant to say _that_. It had nothing to do with what they were there for. It might even be considered rude, depending on the Pa's social conventions. But she couldn't say what she was supposed to say, to just blurt it out, so she blurted out something completely besides the point and made a fool of herself, like too often. But, she'd said it, and, in its way, it did smooth the way, as long as she followed it to its natural conclusion. "I mean, I don't know how gender works for the Pa, and I don't want to offend you by using the wrong one, so, do you use she/her, or they, or something else?"

Mialin's smile remained in place, and it was extremely hard to tell if she, or they, or whatever, was offended or not. "Oh, whatever you like. I see you've been talking to Patty. The one thing I'll say for her, she taught me the most delightful regional English phrase once, 'bless her heart' which you say when somebody's extremely stupid but it would be rude to say it. So, bless her heart, but her pronoun use _doesn't_ bother me... most humans feel comfortable with 'she' when I'm assuming a feminine form. But honestly, it's all vibrations in the air to me, so use whatever you like. You can't offend me with vibrations in the air. Even my _name_ is just for convenience's sake, you couldn't express what I _actually_ use to identify myself so I literally just randomly selected three sounds you humans can make." 

Cheryl decided on 'she' for now, treating her as genderfluid rather than enby, at least in person. 'They' might be appropriate later.

"Now," Mialin said. "We're not here to talk about me, are we? So why don't you tell me what you think qualifies you as a refugee, and then I'll see if we can do anything for you."  
She looked to her brother again, wanting him to take over the conversation, and he did, but he spoke haltingly, stumbling a bit over his words, betraying his own nervousness. "Umm, my sister and I... this is my sister here, I mean. Well... the thing is.... we kind of got in some trouble, and, I mean, we made the news and everything, like, back home, and we kind of had to leave it a hurry. Because..."

It was strange watching him like this... he was normally so _smooth_ with other people... in some ways, he was her opposite. Cheryl got awkward among strangers but if she got on stage, she could perform a role in front of the whole school, whereas Justin made friends easily, and though he could perform wonderfully in rehearsals, or when roleplaying in a small group, he tended to stumble over his words when too many people were watching. This was just Mialin, but maybe, in some ways, Justin felt he was performing for the whole Pa-Var. Or maybe it was just the particular confession that was giving him trouble. She could understand that.

It was then Cheryl realized that she _could_ say it, if she wanted. It was always a strange discovery, that something she, only moments before, thought impossible because of her anxiety, was actually easy. Maybe here it was because Mialin's unearthliness was tricking her brain into not being as shy as she would be with a human, or it could be the performance aspect, or something that only applied here and now and would never work again. It was also disconcerting, in its way, how quickly her capabilities sometimes changed for no reason she could put a finger on... but at least this version was much more pleasant than the reverse, where she thought she could do something and then, when the moment came, was overwhelmed with sourceless panic that prevented her from moving or speaking. That feeling might come back at any time, but things were usually better once momentum had already begun, and Cheryl knew, in this moment, she could say the words her brother was having trouble with. So she did. "My brother and I are in an incestuous relationship. We've been keeping it a secret, but... we can't exactly do that anymore." After she said it, her face flushed again, but she decided that was probably a good thing to be a little red right then. 

The declaration caused Mialin to visibly draw her head back, but then the smile on her face widened along with her overlarge eyes. "Oh, really! That _is_ interesting! Why not? Are you pregnant?"

"No," Justin said, too quickly.

"Because as a refugee we can make sure your baby doesn't have any problems because of your genetic relationship. Such risks are overstated by your society, and easily correctable in any event."

That possibility had never crossed Cheryl's mind before, although she decided it made sense, considering how far advanced Pa-Var medicine was. Perhaps it partly explained why they were so unbothered by incest in general. It didn't explain how they got around all the _other_, more social problems. "Our mother caught us," Justin said, now back more in the swing of things. Momentum, again. Now that she said the words, it was easier for him to play along. "And told the police, and... it's a crime in our state. I'm... we're both facing jail if we go back." Not entirely true, Cheryl knew. Because he was a little bit older, it was very likely all the blame would fall on him, even though they went into this together. She was very conscious of that. "So we ran away. And came here."

Mialin nodded along. "It's tragic how your government criminalizes some relationships solely based on _who_ is involved. And I hope we're able to help you in some way. However, there are some, ugh, _procedures_ we need to go through." She made an exaggerated disgusted face, one eye closed and tongue thrust out, when she said 'ugh', and then turned around and seemingly reached into the wall. When she pulled her hands back, they were holding two large rings. "Put these on your heads." She deposited them on the desk, one in front of each of them. 

"What for?" Cheryl asked, worried again that it was all going to fall apart, that there were lie detectors or something. 

"When dealing with an uncivilized planet like yours, I'm afraid we have held ourselves to certain rules, some for moral reasons, some for what you'd call _'optics.'_ One of these rules is that we can only accept requests from those who are... well, you don't have a word for it... adulthood is close, but so imprecise. Not children, at the very least... except we don't decide this by how many times your planet has gone around the sun since you were pulled out of another body, but instead by how your brain functions. If you are not capable of being responsible for yourself, my hands would be, as you say, tied. We'd only be able to accept aid requests from a guardian or your state. Which is, I know, totally unfair to children victimized by those who should be protecting them, but if we intervened on the behalf of _every_ child in that situation we'd have to abduct millions of children. And we're not going down _that_ route again. So we have a little test, just so we can be assured that you chose this for yourself." 

Nobody had told Cheryl anything about this. She shot a glance at her brother, wondering if he'd known and just kept it from her so she wouldn't worry, but he seemed wary as well. What happened if they failed? Or, maybe worse, what happened if she failed and he didn't, if they decided he was an adult and she a child? Would they decide he abused her? The Pa-Var, for all their official distance from human authorities, sometimes cooperated with them, and once even made big headlines because they turned in a serial killer who came to them, along with evidence of his crimes. What if they reported Justin? Or decided to handle him themselves? 

"The device won't hurt," Mialin assured them, misreading Cheryl's spark of worry. "Nor will the test itself. Unless thinking too hard hurts, but then you couldn't make the decisions you need to be making." 

"It's okay," Justin said, taking her shaking hand. "Everything will be okay. We know what we're doing." And he gave it that extra squeeze of his thumb between her own and the nearest finger, the signal they agreed meant _'remember.'_ "And you always ace every test."

Because of that, she was able to calm herself, at least enough to hold the panic at bay. He was right, it would probably be okay. She was catastrophizing again. Almost every test in school, she panicked about, but she did wind up passing. This wasn't quite the same thing... but it might be. Or it might not. Even if the worst didn't happen, couldn't happen (she had to believe it couldn't), all of this might be for nothing if they judged her still a child. What did adulthood mean to the Pa-Var? What did it mean to humanity? Cheryl didn't know if she measured up by either standard... sure, she had just about completed high school, but people had called her both too mature for her age, and too immature, and she never reached any particular point where, inside, she felt sure she was no longer a child, no magical coming of age moment that she half-expected with every birthday of the last few years. Maybe, if the Pa-Var were so advanced, they really _did_ have an objective standard that could tell her if she was a grown-up yet. Maybe it'd be worth taking the test just to know that.

She took the band, placed it on her head and waited for the Pa-Var to tell her she was no longer a child.

\---

"Stop being such a _child_, Cheryl!" 

"It _hurts_!"

"Of _course_ it hurts." Her friend Kelly said, tugging the brush through her wet hair again. "You asked me to help, and I'm helping. This would go a lot easier if you had reasonable hair and not a rat's nest." 

Cheryl pouted into the mirror. "I _like_ my rat's nest." Rat's nest was an exaggeration, a frequent joke between them, though her hair was long and often got frizzy and more than a few tangles tended to form over time... not usually enough to be a problem, until she tried to straighten them. Despite those issues, she _did_ like her hair. Or at least, sometimes she did... if not the look, than at least that she was independent enough to not care what people thought of her hair. And sometimes she cared very much and was incredibly self-conscious about it, only slightly less self-conscious than she'd be if she'd actually deliberately styled it. When it attracted negative comments, knowing she could, in theory, change it at any moment made it easier to deal with than comments about her face or body, and even though she swiftly deflected them, she secretly treasured the rare compliments about it. Through it all, she genuinely loved the feel of it bouncing around her head and the ease with which she could pull it back and tie it off when she needed it out of her way, or pull it forward to hide her face when she needed that instead. So it wasn't a lie that she liked it, though sometimes she thought she liked it for all the wrong reasons. Self-esteem was complicated.

Which was why she asked for help, because that wasn't going to cut it, tonight of all nights. "This is _Prom_," Kelly said. "You need to look spectacular for your date."

"It's not a date," she insisted, automatically. "Not _really_." And it wasn't... Cam and Cheryl were friends, but that was as far as it went. Cam was attracted to Jen (with a secondary, even-more-hopeless interest in a guy in their English class), but had sworn Cheryl to secrecy on both fronts, since Jen was seeing somebody. Yes, Cheryl and Cam eventually decided to go to the prom together, but that was more just so they didn't miss one of the defining rituals of high school life. 

"Still, it's meant to _look_ like one. And it's your last chance to get people to notice you, if you change your mind. Remember what I said about Prom Night." Kelly had quoted some probably-made up statistic about how 1/3 of high school breakups happened on Prom Night. Since Kelly didn't like anybody who had asked her, she was going single to the dance in the hopes of hooking up off with somebody fun off a rebound. 

"I don't _want_ people to notice me," Cheryl said, half-lying as usual. The problem was more that she didn't really know how to deal with it if someone did. Her friends thought she was ace, or somewhere on the spectrum, and maybe she was, though Cheryl was still trying to sort it all out. Sure, she'd had some fledgling romantic encounters--compared to her friends, barely enough to be worthy of the name--but they didn't seem to do anything other than make her feel unbearably awkward or panic and shut down. Maybe she was demisexual of some stripe, needing a strong connection first. She'd just never let herself get close enough to anyone enough to really feel that intense passion some her friends talked about going along with other feelings. Her feelings always seemed to be a disjointed mess, too. There'd been crushes, but they tended to vanish the closer they came to being real. At the same time, she'd experienced a fair share of sexual urges... sometimes strikingly intense ones, out of nowhere, usually not focused around anyone in particular but still, undeniably there, often enough to question any label she'd tried for herself that even got close to asexuality. Cheryl sometimes thought she had the same urges as most people... she was too _broken_ to be able to deal with them, couldn't get past the walls her anxiety built up to explore them in the ways everyone else did and so would be stuck a lonely, awkward child forever. It was a scary thought, and one of the things she kept from even her friends. Ace was, if not entirely accurate, at least easier to explain, and the truth embarrassed her... everyone else seemed to have figured out themselves a lot quicker than she did. 

"Fine." It sounded like Kelly was gritting her teeth when she said it, and Cheryl reminded herself to dial it back. She liked making objections, and hearing them demolished, but that could annoy her friends and she didn't want to push it too far. Most of her biggest anxieties revolved around people she cared about just finally getting tired of her shit. She couldn't even blame them if it happened. "Do it for Cam, then, make a good impression for their parents."

She couldn't help it, she pointed out, "They know me already."

"Yeah, but if you look all dolled up for Cam, it makes it more real for them." Kelly knew her well enough to know that Cheryl knew all this already, that her objections were coming from her anxious brain and, Cheryl suspected, normally enjoying being the one to shoot them down. "You're playing a role here, remember? The spectacular girlfriend. And if you'd shut up and let me work then I can make the _spectacular_ part true at least."

The hair was looking better, Cheryl had to admit... and in fact, she did, out loud. "I'm sorry. Thank you for your help, you really _are_ doing a good job." She still dreaded the dress and heavy makeup application and looking ridiculous, or rather feeling like she was which was just as bad even if it was all in her head. She knew, intellectually, that she'd look good, because Kelly always did, and in fact so did Cheryl whenever Kelly'd helped out with the makeup for plays or other events. It just took until weeks after before she could admit it to herself. But despite that history, every time, her gut still warned her she'd look like a clown or a fake. Luckily, she could get through that feeling. _Playing a role_, she reminded herself, until it went away. Though she wished Justin wasn't working, so she could show off her all-dolled look to him. Then she remembered something else that could distract her from negative thoughts, which always helped. "Oh, speaking of playing roles... my brother's got Tuesday off. So, after school that day, I was thinking we could get together and he could run us through a quick adventure. Since weekends are no good."

"Really? _Dungeons and Dragons_?"

"You were always into it!"

"Yeah, when we were, like, _fourteen_. I mean, I'm sure it'd be like, fun or whatever but... we're like, practically _adults_ now, we could be doing _far_ more interesting things."

Her spirits sank. "Michelle wanted it though," Cheryl said, a half-lie... Michelle did seem genuinely excited about the idea, at least. Over the last year, she'd mentioned a couple times about how much she missed the regular games and playing her character. Still, it was Cheryl who proposed this end-of-the-year last hurrah game first and now she wondered if she was being humored. "...and since she's busy pretty much every weekend since she officially moves out, this might be the last big event we get to do with her."

"Big deal," Kelly said. "I never really cared for Michelle anyway. I just tolerated her because she was part of the group, you know?"

How was it somebody you've known for years could still blindside you with something. "She's our _friend_."

"Well, she's _your_ friend. And even that, probably just for now."

"What do you mean?"

The hair brushing paused. "We're in the last months of our last year of high school, Cher. So... now, everything... _all_ of it is temporary. It's like you said, Michelle's going away. Everyone is. That's why we're all making crazy plans, because it's probably the last chance that we're going to have an adventure together--_real_ ones, not pretend fantasy adventure. I mean... look, Cam's going to L.A. the day after graduation and, they'll probably be too busy networking or whatever. Jen's fucking off to Japan of all places, she'll be on a completely different sleeping schedule. We're all going our own ways... really, really _different_ ways, and we're _not_ coming back. So I don't even know that we'd really _count_ as friends for very long. I mean, we'll probably still be on the group chat, exchange funny texts now and then, but let's be realistic, we're probably going to drift apart really quick. We'll be busy chasing our dreams and making new lives. That's what college _is_, new friends, new experiences, a fresh start. Becoming adults. You know how _rare_ it is for adults still to be friends with all of the same people they were as kids? Chances are, most of us? We won't even ever see each other again after graduation, unless there's a reunion or something. I mean, maybe we'll each run into Beth at her father's gas station, whenever we come home to visit, or your brother if he's _still_ here." Kelly had made the occasional remark about Justin not moving on to college right away, somewhere between snide and disappointed in him, but she didn't know the reasons behind it and so her opinion didn't count... as infuriating as it was when the comments were casually dropped. "But get-togethers, with the whole group? Rare as fuck, and when they _do_ happen... what will we really have in common anymore? So I'm all for making the _most_ of these last few weeks together... just, excuse me if I'm okay with dropping some of the dead weight early, so I can focus on making the most of the time I have with the people who _are_ important to me. And I don't know about you, but for me... pretending to be a Warlock so I can get some quality time in with Michelle of all people isn't a priorty."

_Am I important to you?_ Cheryl wondered. _Or are you just killing time?_ Her breaths seemed to be getting harder and harder to take as she contemplated the future... she wasn't ready for college, not emotionally, not to have to start all over again trying to make friends. She could feel the meltdown starting. _Why did people have to leave?_ "It's still the group," she said softly, just because the only thing she could do in defiance of the feeling was make some small effort in keeping her friends together as long as she could. "At least, Cam's in. I think Jen, too." And Justin seemed excited about getting to play Dungeon Master again... their last regular game was before he graduated. Things were much easier when they all went to the same school... which probably made Kelly's point about their friendships being on a timer.

"I'll _think_ about it, okay? We'll see how tonight goes. I mean, I might be having way too much actual sex on Tuesday to worry about a game of make-believe. But you should think _too_, about coming along on with me and Jen in two weeks." As usual, Cheryl hadn't given a firm answer to that proposal. Now she started to wonder if Kelly's whole rant was less about being against Michelle and more about trying to push Cheryl into coming along for the road trip she was planning. Maybe she was valued after all, and the meltdown in her head started to pause. "There'll probably be lots of opportunities to take a good picture."

"Maybe," she said, wishing she could be more decisive. 

Kelly let loose a sigh and went back to brushing. "I don't know what you're going to do when you're off at university. Who's going to push you into doing the fun things you're too scared to do?" She gave a soft chuckle, then. "Then again, maybe that's where the best scientists come from."

Sometimes, Kelly was awful, hitting on exactly her insecurities without even trying. Cheryl had to believe it was without trying, especially because she'd always kept the full extent of her anxieties from her friends... but the meltdown countdown timer threatened to resume again. A lifetime of television lead her to believe that, somehow, all of her friends would wind up going to the same place after high school, and now she had to deal with the reality that they weren't, and worse, the dark voice in her head that told her this was deliberate, that they wanted to be away from her, that they were sick of being part of her support system. She didn't really think that was true, not yet, but still... Cheryl wasn't ready to lose all her old friends, or for that matter to even be a responsible self-sufficient adult. What did being an adult really mean? She still needed somebody to push her and tell her everything was going to be okay, like a child, and pretty soon everyone would be gone, even Justin because she'd be away at college. But no, she bit down on the feeling. _Not tonight_, she told herself, bargained with herself maybe. _Cam needs me tonight. Break down tomorrow._ Sometimes it worked... particularly when someone else needed her, it was easier to push through. And she _could_ push through, she had to remind herself. Her anxiety brain lied to her, all the time. Sometimes so convincingly that she froze up on the silliest things, but other times she could remember doing the things that terrified her and them not being so bad, like every time she got up on stage. Anxiety usually didn't stop her from doing the things she really wanted. Maybe not everything at the same time. Fighting against it could be exhausting, and so sacrifices had to be made... maybe a satisfying love life was one of those sacrifices. But as long as she managed her energy carefully, Cheryl knew she could accomplish things that were really important to her... the anxiety just made the time leading up to it, during, and even occasionally after, miserable. She was going to prom, she was going to college next year, and she was going to be okay, even if it didn't feel like it. She was braver than she gave herself credit for. Just the other day she even was thinking about leaving the entire planet Earth to go to school.  
A laugh escaped, breaking the tension inside her like a bubble through a still pond. Kelly probably thought it was about the joke she just made, and smiled in relief, proving that she hadn't meant to be cruel, but Cheryl's mind was mostly elsewhere, remembering that crazy thing Justin said, about his friend who was planning to fake incest to get into the alien school as a refugee. In a way, this would be the perfect time for _that_ idea, the one they both dismissed without even talking about it, the theoretical notion of trying the same scheme themselves. A fresh start had its advantages. After all, she was losing all her existing friends _anyway_, or at least likely not seeing them in person for months, so she wouldn't have to worry as much about what they thought, seeing judgmental looks or them wondering, despite any assurances to the contrary, if it really was just a scam. One way or the other, she'd have to deal with a whole population of new people anyway, and what did it matter if all the new people she met were aliens rather than humans? It might even be easier, since with aliens she had an excuse if she got off on the wrong foot because of a misunderstanding. If it was just her future on the line, it might even be worth trying. 

But, she wasn't going to make her brother play along and suffer for her dream, which was still just that, a dream. Fun to think about, maybe, but nothing she could afford to pursue. Childish, in a way. She already had a college lined up, wasn't far from sending her deposit for the tuition, money she knew Justin was helping to pay for. She felt guilty enough about _that_, it was unfair to ask for more. She had to act like an adult. Even if she didn't entirely _feel_ like one.


	6. Masks

They were alone, at least for a minute or two, while Mialin went off to her crystal garden to, as she said, prepare things for the next step. Justin sat in silence, looking ahead at the desk, not sure what to say... they might be alone, but he assumed they were being watched at all times and doing nothing was better than screwing up. 

"Don't be mad," Cheryl whispered, an underlying smugness in her voice along with, probably, a genuine fear of hurting his feelings.

"I'm not mad," Justin said back. And he wasn't. Not _really_. Maybe a _little_ injury to his pride, sure, but he was, more than anything, relieved that they'd passed this first hurdle. What mattered was that they were both judged as adults, by Pa-Var reckoning. Not that his little sister's brain was judged, by whatever arcane measurement the aliens used, to be a little more adult than his was. 

"They say girls mature quicker anyway," she whispered again. 

"It's _fine_, just drop it," he said, then worried the tension in his voice made it sound like he was lying. So he added in a fake sulk, "I don't care what they say though, there's _no way_ you're more mature than me," and stuck his tongue out at her and made a face, until she smiled, and he smiled back. "No, really, it's fine," and this time he felt like he sounded genuine enough to convince her. As for himself? The test itself was weird enough that he wasn't sure he put much stock in it. Images flashing in his head, almost too fast to process, interspersed with video-game like segments where he controlled (or sometimes, didn't control but was asked to predict the movements of) an abstract character. Maybe it had _some_ correlation to brain development, but like IQ tests, it could only measure specific things it was designed to, and maturity, he thought, was much more complex than a number. In many ways it would be a relief to just accept the results unquestioned, because along with that went any worries that he was pushing his own desires on Cheryl. That was the whole definition of maturity the aliens operated with, the notion that your problem-solving abilities, consequence prediction, and self-image were strong enough that your decisions were truly your own, influenced by others but still fundamentally yours at all times. "I'm just anxious about what's going to happen next." 

"You and me both."

Mialin glided back into view without a sound and with a suddenness that made Justin flinch. "Sorry about that," she said, though he didn't know if it was about startling him or leaving in the first place. "I actually could have done that from here, but it would have taken all my concentration, and I find it disturbs people from your species if I just turn into a statue." She leaned forward over the desk. "Well, now that the preliminaries are out of the way, let's get started with your application and what we can do to help. Obviously, we can't make the criminal charges against you in your country go away." She must have confirmed them, then, while she was away. "But if you'd like, we can make an official request that they be set aside."

"Does that _work_?" he asked. 

"Not usually with the stubborn societies, like yours, no. But it brings attention to the issue, and might help others down the line. Incremental progress is still progress."

"Please, no," Cheryl said. "I don't... we don't want any more attention than we already have."

"Didn't you come here for help being accepted? This is a way to help. You don't even have to be there."

"Maybe not, but... I'd still know. And Mom would have to deal with it."

"Yeah," Justin chimed in. "We still love her, despite what happened. We don't want things to be more difficult." And, even if the charges were set aside, it wouldn't change anyone's minds. 

Mialin appeared to consider it. "So, what _do_ you want? Refugee status can mean a lot of things. We can attempt to facilitate a move to another country that doesn't have laws against consanguineous relationships."

For anyone else, that might be a good outcome, but not for them. "We were hoping to leave Earth entirely," Justin said. "I mean, we've traveled a bit, but if we're going to be starting entirely new lives anyway..." he trailed off, suddenly at a loss for words for how to explain this desire. Maybe he should just come clean, at least, about one thing. "It's always kind of been both of our dreams. To see other planets. Explore the stars. And, you never know, what another country might do. They might decide to change their laws, or extradite us back to the US or something because of political convenience."

"Mars, then?" Mialin proposed. "We've got a growing colony there, and we absolutely do not extradite to any Earth-based nation. Mars colonists abide by our Principles, which means they can never criminalize your relationship."

Mars would also be a failure... a failure he'd personally be happy with, at least it was a step towards his dream, but he'd feel bad putting his family through this just to wind up on Mars. "Maybe Mars," Justin said, trying not to sound like he was rejecting it. "It's just... my sister was going to start college next year, and.. now she can't. I kind of feel like I screwed that up."

"No you didn't," Cheryl insisted, grabbing his hand. "This was _both_ of us. And..." the corner of a lip quirked into a smile. "Remember the test... if anything, _I_ screwed things up for _you_."

"Mars is getting very close to having its own institutes of higher learning," Mialin said. 

"It's just..." Cheryl paused. "Mars is still mostly human, right?"

"About 99%, by population." Mialin said. "It's still _your_ world, we're just helping you make the most of it."

"That's the problem. I mean... they might _follow_ your rules but... most of them still have _opinions_ about incest. And it's not like they're not going to figure out why we're there, since you don't really get many refugees from America, right?" Cheryl's question went unanswered, for she continued, "I'm just afraid they're not going to really accept us, they're going to think what we're doing is weird and wrong." Her voice got softer, embarrassed. "I mean, deep down, even I still think it's weird and wrong sometimes." She took a breath, seemed more confident. "We've got so much... cultural baggage about it. I think it'd really help to go somewhere with people who _really_ do accept it. And, when we were thinking about coming to you, I found this thing on your website, about a university in space, full of aliens--people, I mean, but all from the Pa-Var alliance... and I wanted to apply there so bad, firstly because... I mean, it just sounds awesome just by itself, so much to learn, so many different types of people. But also because I thought... they'd _have_ to accept us there, right? It's part of your Principles, part of your culture for who knows how long. No baggage. I bet you guys wouldn't even think twice if I said I was in love with my brother." 

Sometimes Cheryl never ceased to astound Justin. They'd discussed how to make the plea, rehearsed a few options, but when it came time to actually perform, she really _sold_ it, both hitting the key points they wanted to get across and improvising details that made it feel spontaneous and heartfelt. No wonder she was the actor in the family. 

"No, most people probably wouldn't care," Mialin agreed. "And that... experience is certainly an option. Really, university isn't the best word the Study in the Stars program, though, it's.." She paused then, seemingly at a loss, and gave up. "Your language is _so_ limited. It just doesn't _have_ all the proper concepts. So, _fine_, I guess university is probably the best way you could understand it. I can look into that for you. But first..." She looked between them. "So, you said _'in love'_ there. Is that true, for both of you?" They looked each other in the eye, saw the resolve there, and both nodded. "Inspiring. Love against all the odds, against everything you've been taught." Justin could swear her already abnormally large eyes were bigger and now actually shined. "Tell me the story... how did you two get together?"

"Umm, well, I was attracted to her," Justin said, remembering what they'd agreed upon and now worried that it wouldn't work so well. If she really _was_ more mature than him, maybe it would be better if he actually _did_ pursue her. After all, the more mature one should _fight_ against the feelings, not pursue them. But he couldn't consult Cheryl on any changes to the plan in front of Mialin, so he had to go forward regardless. "Since, like, maybe she was fourteen or fifteen. It wasn't just that she got really hot... I mean, beautiful, but she was just so... _impressive_, you know? At everything. Funny, caring, smart. She really was everything I wanted in a girl, and so I wanted to spend time with her more than I did any girl my own age. And I was ashamed of that. I mean, I thought I was a freak. So I never said anything, and did my best not to give her any sign, because it was my little sister." He took a breath, worried he was sounding too robotic, spitting out words he'd planned in his head already. "Then one day, after the Pa-Var did their big UN speech where they said we needed to change our laws against incest we got to talking about you guys and what you meant for Earth... and I think I called you guys Perverts, like everyone was doing... sorry..." She waved a hand like she wasn't at all surprised or bothered. "And I saw Cheryl was crying. And she asked if I _really_ thought they were perverts, and then when I was comforting her, trying to figure out what bothered her so much about that, she kissed me. And I kissed back."

"I see." Mialin turned to Cheryl. "So you'd had these secret feelings for a while, too?" His sister nodded. "When was the moment you fell in love with your brother?"

"It doesn't work like that," Cheryl said. "I mean, maybe for you guys. And maybe sometimes for some humans, too. But I don't know, with me... it kind of snuck up on me. Justin's _always_ been my best friend. He's always been there for me. But he was my big brother. That's what they're _supposed_ to do. You don't _realize_ that you want more, except..." Cheryl trailed off, and Justin worried she'd forgotten her story, or had sudden second thoughts, but after a few moments she continued. "You know, we used to play D&D.... _Dungeons and Dragons_?" Mialin looked blank. "It's a game, sort of a co-operative storytelling thing. You pretend to be different people. Each person is one different character, and you decide what that person does, and then one person, the DM, plays everyone else in the world and sets up the challenges they encounter and so on. There are dice, too, to determine whether certain things succeed or not, and... never mind. 

"Anyway, Justin was always our DM. Which meant when my friends' characters flirted with someone else in the world, Justin would act out the other side. And some of them liked to get in romances with people, in the story, who Justin would have to play. Except when I tried to do the same thing, my friends in the group freaked out, said it was _weird_. _I_ didn't think so, because we were just pretending, playing roles. So I asked Justin if we could play some scenes just the two of us without anyone knowing, and... we did, and then it really _did_ feel weird, but, like... _exciting_ weird? We only did it the one time but I kept thinking about it and realized I wasn't jealous of my friends for getting to play _romances_ when I couldn't, I was jealous because my friends were flirting with my brother and _I_ wanted to."

_Shit._ Justin remembered that, or mostly anyway. The time a game got super awkward when they played a scene where Cheryl's character, a Tiefling sorceress, tried to seduce a major NPC, a swashbuckling rogue pirate they occasionally traveled with and got adventure hooks from. His sister's story mixed a little bit of fiction with a lot of fact. Her friends _did_ freak out, and, although he hadn't thought of it in years, she _did_ ask him for a one-on-one session, which he warily agreed to... but they never wound up doing it, she never asked again, and soon after that she decided her character had fallen for Jen's Tabaxi barbarian which seemed to satisfy her urge to develop her character's romantic side. He didn't expect Cheryl would dig so close to home for her explanation. "I knew I'd always _hated_ when any girl seemed into Justin, but now I realized it wasn't just because they were awful, but I was _jealous_."

That was another almost-true thing... at least that she rarely liked any girl he was interested in, and sometimes he did get the impression she was jealous. Not in a romantic sense, but just at the notion that someone was taking up his time and attention which she wanted a healthy share of, like any little sister who was also good friends with her big brother might want. Now his mind sparked with the thought that maybe it was more, that she really had been feeling romantic jealousy. His heart began to accelerate considering the possibility, what it might mean if it were true. 

"I thought it'd go away, so I never said anything. Then he went away on a big months-long European trip," Cheryl continued. "It was the first time we'd ever been apart more than like, a day. And it was like a part of myself was missing. I started having weird dreams about him coming home and... _stuff_ happening. Then, when he finally did come home, it was the same day as the Pa-Var said incest was okay and I thought... _what if_?" No, he decided finally, he was being ridiculous. They'd talked about this. They had a pact. The only way this could work at all is if they went into it trusting that anything they said to the Pa-Var, or for that matter to each other, didn't count, wasn't real, was just part of the story. The dream thing was a giveaway... Cheryl often complained that she never remembered her dreams. So it was just a story, a role she was playing. That she was playing it _well_ was no surprise and meant nothing. 

In a way, they were _both_ good at putting on masks... but his were for everyday life, interacting with people, pretending more confidence than he felt, pretending to be normal... or less abnormal, anyway. That was why he was having trouble here, his masks were always about being chill and easy-going... no wonder he felt like he was stumbling every time he made up a lie, because it was about something that marked him as different, freakishly so. Whereas Cheryl took on exotic masks regularly and played the roles so convincingly he sometimes forgot it was just her on stage. In this case, her role was closer to home, but it was no less a performance. Cheryl had to just be doing what she did when she wrote, when she played RPGs, sometimes when she performed on stage, twisting her own experiences to make the fictional details seem more realistic. That's all it was. It would be sick to think otherwise.

For all that it almost convinced him, Mialin seemed unmoved, or at least had a good poker face on. Then her eyebrows rose and she asked, "And you two have had sex, right?" Cheryl's face turned red, seemed to freeze. "The police report says you were caught _in the act_ by your mother. The act in question was _sex_, right?"

Her face turned redder, but she nodded. It might have made things a lot easier to be able to say no, but there was some worry the Pa-Var might reject a purely romantic relationship unless it had also been consummated. But it was one thing to agree to that, another to talk to a stranger about it. Justin saved her from the embarrassment. "Yes. We don't really like to dwell on that moment?"

"Were you using a condom?"

"Of course."

Mialin let out a sound like a scoff. "You can hardly call _that_ sex. Even if your society _is_ backward enough to call consensual incest a crime, it's just straight up _ridiculous_ to make such a fuss when the primary sex organs didn't even actually _touch_. Have you done it without one at all?"

Justin frantically searched his sister's face for some idea of whether they should make up an answer that might turn out to be less of a risk of rejection, but she seemed just as worried from him. He decided to stick to the plan. "We were worried about pregnancy."

"But we've done _other_ stuff," Cheryl blurted out. 

"I'm sorry, I'm not meaning to judge your choices. You two, because of your culture, probably _do_ consider it sex, and obviously you would be concerned about pregnancy. It's not something you'd have to worry about living with the Pa-Var. So, how often _have_ you had sex? We'll count with condoms, I guess." 

"Only a few times, all the way," Justin said. "We were living with our mother, and so we had to be very careful she wasn't home."

"Until you weren't," Mialin pointed out. He looked down at his knees. "But you _enjoyed_ it, yes? I'm assuming you'd like it to continue if you're coming to us." 

"Yes," Justin said. "I like having sex with my sister." God that was hard to say, but at least with him saying it out loud, Cheryl only had to nod. He hoped this would be over soon.

But Mialin was relentless. "What positions do you like?"

He'd about reached his limit, not liking where these questions were going. Things were hard enough already without having to describe sex with his sister in graphic detail. And at this point, indignation seemed like a perfectly normal response. "Okay, do we really have to answer these? We came to you for help, not to give you fetish fuel with our personal lives." 

Mialin didn't seem offended, angry, or even abashed in the slightest. If anything, she reminded him of one of his more businesslike health teachers, who both refused to be embarrassed by the topic of sexual health and also had no patience for tomfoolery. "I realize that this is uncomfortable for you. I don't really _understand_ all the hangups your culture has about sex, but you're not the _only_ species out there with weird hangups. But you should understand, for me it's exactly as personal as asking about food. You humans _do_ that, right? Ask each other what you had to eat? I'm not just making that up?" She took their baffled silence as a yes. "So rest assured I'm not just indulging my curiosity here. I'm trying to get a sense of you as a couple, so I can be sure your application is genuine."

"Why wouldn't it be genuine?" Justin asked, although he knew better than anyone the answer. "Who would _fake_ something like this?"

"Oh, you'd be surprised. We have a lot of attempts by the intelligence services of Earth nations to get operatives off-planet. You're not spies are you?"

"Do we _look_ like spies?" Justin asked.

"If spies _looked_ like spies they wouldn't be very good, would they?" It was a hard point to refute.

\---

The man who showed up at their doorstep didn't _look_ like a spy, either the suave gorgeous type you see in movies, or the balding pass-for-an-accountant type he always suspected was more realistic. When Justin opened the door, he saw a man that looked like a college gym coach. Shorts, short-sleeved shirt. dark hair that seemed to be just starting to turn gray, in decent enough shape but not enough to be intimidating. He did have a briefcase, the black kind spies always did carry in the movies, but unless you were already _expecting_ a spy, that shouldn't be enough to get your mind going down that path. 

Justin's instant judgment was, "In-Person Spam." Someone going door to door, maybe for charity, or for political canvassing, or even just sales though he didn't know if people actually did that any more. Whatever it was, it held no particular interest to Justin, so he said, automatically, "Sorry, my mom isn't home right now, you'll have to come back later." Even though he was an adult, it was occasionally very helpful to still use that old excuse.

"I'm not here to talk to your mother, Justin, I'm here to talk to you, and your sister."

It was always worrying when somebody you don't know uses your first name without you telling it to them. Especially in person. He heard a soft shuffling noise from the living room, and saw his sister standing there, in her shorts and _Captain Marvel_ shirt, watching without a word, visible to him but not their visitor, having apparently heard that this involved her somehow. "Uh, what's this about?" he asked.

"It's about the future. I heard you two want to go to space. How would you like to help your country while you're doing it?"

Less than a minute later, he was in their living room. Justin wasn't even sure how it happened, the man had used the moment of excitement to step in like he was invited, and then spotted his sister, said, "Ah, you must be Cheryl," and invited them to sit, in their own home. The man, who introduced himself merely as 'Foster', pulled and flashed a badge that looked like it said National Security, then immediately went into a rehearsed speech, warning them that the meeting they were about to hear was covered under recently passed new legislation, and divulging the information to anybody could result in serious jail time or nefarious _'other penalties.'_

Once that was done, he asked if they understood, and when they both signalled they did, he went on, "Our country is facing an existential threat. Since the Pa-Var arrived, no longer could we be assured that we had the best military, the best technology, to defend our way of life from our enemies. Our alien visitors may _seem_ peaceful, but we can't afford to depend on the supposed peaceful intentions of a powerful outside force, particularly if that force may come to favor other countries over us. And they already do. Make no mistake. Of all the human beings that are off planet, only the tiniest fraction are American." While that was true, Justin knew it was only because of refugees, rather than any deliberate plot. "We're playing catch-up here, and that's never a good position to be in. Who's going to be the first to benefit from Pa-Var science? The people who are already there. So, it's vital we get people, Americans, in space up there, any way we can." 

"Okay, so, what does this have to do with us?" Justin asked. "Are you going to like, sponsor us or something?"

Foster gave a grim smile. "Just about the opposite. At least officially. I'm sure you remember the scheme your friend Lee told you about?"

"The... the refugee thing?" Cheryl asked, speaking for the first time since Foster arrived. 

"Good, your brother told you." He smiled... Justin would have called it an insincere smile, but it wasn't... it just felt that way, because he already didn't trust him. He knew if he met this guy casually and didn't know he was a spy, he'd have thought him perfectly trustworthy... which meant he was even more dangerous. "That makes this easier. Yes. That's actually how I found you. I was working with Lee, grooming him for this assignment. Ever since they began allowing some humans into space, we've tried to get people in there. We've been doing whatever we can to recruit people who might have an interest into going and who'd be willing to lie in order to get there. That includes civilians, like yourselves, and like Lee. Unfortunately, that dumbass broke the _one_ rule we have to work with. Absolute secrecy. Once we learned he proposed the idea to you, we couldn't trust him anymore. Now you, you two might be another matter. In many ways, you're better candidates. You already want to apply to this Pa-Var college, right?" This was directed at Cheryl, who nodded. "Good. Then you can serve your country while doing it. Anything you learn of their science or technology could be incredibly useful here. You could write your own ticket when you get back, just teaching people what you learned there." Justin remembered Lee using the phrase _"write your own ticket,"_ and wondered if this is where he got it.

"But, I thought the only way to get in is to..." Cheryl looked to Justin, then back to Foster, then back to Justin. 

"Yes. You'd have to claim incest. It's the only blind spot these perverts have. They seem to think it's a lot more normal and common than it really is, and that it's worth helping people who do it. So let's use it to America's advantage and fight back against their deliberately isolation of us." He could see they weren't convinced, so he added, "Within a matter of years, maybe months, the Pa-Var are going to stop dealing with humanity as a whole, and start dealing with the countries who play ball. Now, you know and I know--hell, the aliens know--that's not going to be America, not for a long time. We need every edge we can get, every American person we can get, out there, gathering intelligence so we don't fall behind."

Cheryl burst out laughing. Justin stared at her. "I'm sorry. It's just... this is a _prank_, right? I mean _clearly_ this is all bullshit, right?"

_It could be_, Justin realized. Lee would have had to be the one to set it up, and he didn't seem to have that much creativity in him. The most extensive prank he'd known him to do before was hide the boss' keys at work. It would be almost a relief if it was a joke. He just hoped Cheryl didn't think he was the one to set it up.

If it was a prank, though, Foster was committed to it. "It's not bullshit, ma'am. I can understand your doubts. Maybe this will help." He opened his briefcase, pulled out a tablet, pressed a thumbprint to it to activate swiped around it for a while, and flipped it towards them with a video running. It was an instantly recognizable face... the President of the United States, sitting in the Oval Office. 

"Your country needs you. My agent here has an extraordinary opportunity for you two to serve your country. I hope you'll consider it carefully. Throughout history, we've depended on patriots willing to do what's necessary for their country, and I hope that you'll be the patriots we need." Even leaving aside that he didn't like this President at all, and the fact that the word 'country' was used far too many times, hearing a plea directly at them by the President (even if on video and not by name) was remarkably affecting. 

"That could be faked," Cheryl pointed out, but grumpily and he knew that she was convinced, or she never really doubted as she claimed to. 

"It could," Foster agreed, "But it's not. Does this look familiar?" He swiped through the pad again, this time taking a few more seconds, and revealed Justin's own transcripts, the one he used to apply for college, and hoped to again once Cheryl's was paid for. 

He flipped again, and showed Cheryl hers as well, though it seemed to unsettle her. "Why do you have our school transcripts?" she asked. 

"I didn't come to you out of the blue. I've researched both you, and you seem to be particularly good candidates. You're both smart, studious types... so not only would you fit in with an alien college, you'd probably excel."

"What you want is _spies_, though. We're just... teenagers."

"That's just it. The Pa-Var are good at sniffing out spies. Every _actual_ agent we've sent has been turned away. The only success we've had is with people with no prior connection to any kind of government agency. That's why we've been resorting to this kind of... unconventional recruitment. Believe me, I'd much rather work with trained agents. But that door's closed, and you being teenagers makes you perfect candidates. We're not asking you to do anything dangerous... we just want you to gather intelligence, passively, from wherever you wind up. If all you did was go to classes and learned whatever the Pa-Var were willing to teach you, it would _still_ be worthwhile to us to invest our time and resources into helping you get there."

"So... what would we have to do?" Cheryl asked. "Like go to one of the Visitor Centers and claim to be dating?" Justin looked at her, eyes widened in surprise that she seemed to be considering it. But she always did like to have as much information as possible before she decided something one way or another.

"First I'd coach you for a while, make sure you behave properly and have a consistent story if questioned, and codes we can use to keep in contact. Eventually, yes, you'd present yourselves as refugees at one of the Visitor Centers, fleeing persecution. Of course, we'd stage some incident, get the police involved, maybe a little media coverage, to make you more sympathetic in their eyes."

Justin stood up at that. "Nuh-uh, out of the question. You expect us to go there with everyone we know thinking I'm actually f... dating my sister?" His face felt warm at the very thought, and saw Cheryl was blushing too.

Foster seemed unbothered, like he was suggesting something completely reasonable. "Yes. I mean, we could probably let your mother in on the truth, but otherwise, everyone else needs to believe the story we craft. That's the assignment. You look like perverts to infiltrate Perverts, to get into space, to learn what America needs to know. Think of it like Halloween, you pretend to be freaks... but only for a short time. When you get back, you can take off the masks, and the government will back you up."

"Except if we don't get in at all," Justin pointed out. "And we screw up our lives for nothing."

"If you get rejected by the Pa-Var," Foster explained, "We'll make the problems disappear there too. As long as you give it your all. Back out, or screw up like Lee did and tell people without prior approval, and you're on your own."

Justin looked back at Cheryl, saw her already looking back at him, a doubtful, questioning expression, like she wanted to know if he was interested in this before she decided. The problem, was, he wanted the exact same thing with her. So he decided to play it safe, said, "I don't know, it sounds like a lot of risk."

"Look, nobody's forcing you into this," Foster said. "I thought you might be receptive to the opportunity here. If you're not, I'll move on to another candidate and you'll never get this chance again. I don't like wasting my time, so if either of you are dead set against this, you might as well tell me right now. But before you do, you might want to think about your family's current financial status."

Justin froze. When she noticed, Cheryl asked, "What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"You must know your mother is basically drowning in debt, right? This lovely home you've got here? The bank will foreclose within a few months. _You_'ll probably land on your feet with that fancy college you were accepted to... even if it means paying off student loans for the rest of your life, but it's a shame to lose the family home." 

Justin grit his teeth. He knew things were bad, but Mom kept reassuring him it was okay, though he should have known when she didn't argue with him about helping to pay Cheryl's tuition so she wouldn't have to go into debt or take a job on her own, at least not the first year until she'd settled in. He managed to put together the deposit Cheryl needed, but he was only counting on having to pay _half_ of the full year... and he always assumed Mom would hang onto the house. 

Maybe that shouldn't have bothered him as much as it did, but... Dad bought the house, before he died. It was one of the few things he left the family, and although Justin wasn't sure he believed in an _actual_ afterlife, he always imagined his father would feel proud that he left them in reasonable financial security. Maybe Mom couldn't be blamed for getting into money troubles... but he could, and did, blame her for not being honest, not letting him do more to help. 

Foster must have misinterpreted his anger. "_I'm_ not doing any of this, you understand. That isn't how we operate... well, not how _I_ operate, at least. You want to blame someone, blame the Perverts. Since they came, we've got an epidemic of financial uncertainty. You hear they started curing cancer at some of their Visitor Centers? Great for the sick people. _Not_ so great for the banks who depend on health care debt. They're scared, and when they're scared, they're going to squeeze harder on every other type of debt, and people like your Mom will be the ones to suffer. Nothing to do with me, or our government, except right here, right now, we _are_ in a position to help. We can't officially pay you for what we want you to do or the Pa-Var will catch on, but we can arrange things with the bank, unofficially. More time before they foreclose, at the very least. And if you come back to Earth with anything useful... believe me when I say saving the house you grew up in will be the tip of the iceberg for what you can ask for."

"Maybe..." Cheryl said, after some seconds of awkward silence, a silence Justin noted for the resigned lack of surprise from his sister. She must have known, or suspected, maybe not the full extent but at least enough that the revelation only made her sad instead of shocked. Which meant he failed at insulating her. "Maybe we should hear him out."

Now there was shock, but it was on his end. "Are you _sure_?"

"At least with _this_ plan we probably won't have to worry about my tuition. And this _is_ what we've always wanted, right?" she pointed out again, and coming from her it was a lot more convincing than from Agent Foster. "I mean... going to the stars. Though I bet _you've_ always wanted to be a spy, too."

Sure, like many people he'd had the occasional power fantasies of being a spy. But if the _Section 31_ episodes of _Star Trek_ had taught him nothing else, spying was a business that could get very dirty.

\---


	7. Minefield

"No. We're not spies," Cheryl said, trying to think of it as acting rather than lying. 

"The problem is that's precisely what spies would say. You'd throw less suspicion on yourself if you said you _were_ spies."

"... No, I'm pretty sure we wouldn't," Justin said after a moment.

"Agree to disagree," Mialin said with a cheery smile and Cheryl wasn't sure whether she was sincere or just playing with them. Humans were hard enough to read, when you threw in an entire alien culture, she didn't have any idea what was going on. 

The thought should have made her retreat into herself, but her surprising confidence still hadn't wavered. A crash would come, she knew, but not yet. "We're not spies, we're just teenagers," she said, echoing something she said the day they were recruited to be spies. Not that she really _felt_ like a spy... maybe technically, but she was doing this to get to study in the stars, the nearest thing to Starfleet Academy that was likely to exist in her lifetime, to learn what they knew about science (not 'study _alien_ science,' as Foster kept calling it... science was science). She'd come back to share what she learned with Earth, but she'd do that anyway. Maybe her brother would count more as a spy... since he wasn't going to be going to school with her he might actually be in a position to learn something other than scientific secrets... which shouldn't _be_ secrets anyways.

"They're not mutually exclusive," Mialin pointed out. "I won't prejudge you, though. Let's just consider these questions a 'getting to know you' exercise. I want you to be telling the truth, after all. So, back to the topic of you two lovefish. No, love_birds_, right? So what do you like to do with your brother, sexually speaking? What was your first time like?"

Cheryl wrung her hands in her lap. This was going to be the hardest part, a virtual minefield. Because, sure, she could make up a love story. It was just like writing, and there, she could draw bits and pieces from her own experiences, draw on past crushes and just make the feeling live in the moment... but it wasn't just that she'd never actually had sex with her brother, she'd never actually _had_ sex, with anybody but herself. She'd learned enough about it, mostly thanks to the Internet and stories from friends, that she wasn't totally ignorant, but at the same time felt like she didn't have anywhere near the experience to sound authentic. 

At least Mialin being an alien might help, if she'd be unable to pick up on anything that just didn't sound right. Still, why couldn't she have asked Justin first? He almost certainly _had_ actually done it, and whatever he said, she could merely agree she liked too. But Mialin asked her, and Justin was himself too uncomfortable with the topic to jump in.  
The word '_asexual_' loomed at the forefront of her mind... but it was a panic reaction, she couldn't actually say that, especially when they'd already confirmed sex. So she drew on movie clips and steamy scenes from books, swallowed, and said, "I mean like we said we've only actually had sex a few times." She remembered Jen talking about her first time and decided she'd be a good source. "It actually wasn't much the first time. I mean, I _liked_ it, but it was a bit awkward and it hurt a little at first." A pang of regret struck her, as she worried she might have hurt Justin's feelings by saying the first time wasn't great, but then she realized how ridiculous that sounded, when the whole incident was fake, and almost grinned... let only a smile slip through, like she was remembering a pleasant memory. It had to _have_ been, in _some_ alternate timeline, some mirror universe, where it actually happened and they weren't lying. In _that_ universe she might be sitting in that exact spot, telling the same story, still hoping to be believed. Maybe some stray memories could leak across the dimensional barrier... ridiculous, of course, from a scientific perspective, but it helped her imagine and feel less like she was lying. "But it was still _exciting_, just because, you know, it was something I'd fantasized about, and it was actually happening." _What details would mirror-Cheryl include_, Cheryl wondered, _if she was telling the story?_ "He was super gentle, though, too," she continued, having guessed that was what Justin would be like. An educated, informed guess, based on everything else she already knew. "He took it really slow, and asked me if I was okay at like every step." Some of her friends talked about being turned off by too much gentleness... consent was certainly key, but once it was given they wanted to be swept away by the passion. For Cheryl, though, the idea of constantly checking in was appealing... at least, in theory. Maybe if it actually happened she'd want something different, but that was her best guess and guesswork was mostly what she had to go on. 

Guessing seemed to be going well for her so far, so she decided to continue. "We did it in his bed, the first time. I was on top of him, mostly, at least at first, but after he was inside, we shifted positions a few times, and it was good, but you know, mostly because it was _him_. I think I liked the holding and kissing more than sex." 

That annoying, worrying voice inside of her again warned her that she wasn't making it sound _good_ enough, that not only was she making Justin look bad, but that Mialin might think it was some kind of misplaced need for attention rather than real romantic attraction if the sex wasn't exciting. Maybe that would make it somehow less worthy of her respect, and more importantly, her help. It would probably be safe if she had a better, hotter story to point to as well. Again, she worried about her lack of actual experience but hoped a little imagination and acting would cover it. 

"The next time was, like... _wow,_ though. We took a shower together... and I don't know if it was the bright bathroom lights or the hot water but... I mean, it started slowly, romantically, washing each other, but before long, feeling his hands all over my hot, soapy body, it was like all our inhibitions fled and we were like _animals._" Sometimes Cheryl thought she should feel a little more ashamed about imagining the specifics of sex with her brother, but this wasn't the first time for that. Since Agent Foster got them into this scheme, her brain did what it _always_ did with rehearsals, upcoming events, media she was binging on, or generally anything she was spending a lot of time thinking about... making random scenarios related to them pop into her imagination at random times. Even if they were unlikely or for that matter completely impossible, '_what ifs_' would worm their way into her head like a song you can't stop humming, goading her to consider what she would do in that situation, as though to let her plan for them or just test if she could deal with them. Too often in her life, this tendency was counterproductive, ramping up her anxiety and forcing her to run through things again and again even when she _had_ a workable plan, but at other times it felt like a boost that kicked her creativity and problem-solving into high gear, or an entertaining escape from her real life concerns. She'd sometimes joked her imagination was like a holodeck... it malfunctioned half the time and trapped her in ridiculous nightmares, but when it didn't it was an incredibly useful and fun tool. 

This _particular_ mental holodeck program was somewhere in between the two. She certainly didn't _intend_ to think about it, but when those images intruded on her thoughts it only gave her a little anxiety to think the scenario through so she could dismiss it, nothing compared to obsessing over, say, how she should act so a friend's friend, that she hadn't met, would like her if they did. These imagined scenes, with Justin, were _weird_, sure, but not really frightening, or even as disgusting as other people claimed to find the thought of doing anything sexual with their siblings. All she had to do was reassure herself that it wasn't something she actually wanted and there was almost no way it would happen anyway, and she could consider the idea almost dispassionately, like imagining what it'd be like to be stranded on another planet, almost a creative writing exercise. She'd calmly considered far worse, at any rate. When you can spend a weekend trying to envision what it'd actually feel like if the Borg assimilated you, for a fanfic on AO3, what's a little imaginary incest with your brother? "It was like we didn't have to care how dirty it was or if we might smell funny or... anything, really, because we were in a shower, so... we just went for it," she relayed. In the event that it actually _did_ have to happen like she imagined, for some unfathomable reason, she decided she could even get through the act... and so mining those unwelcome thoughts to make their story more convincing no longer bothered her much at all. 

Then her eyes slid to her brother, his eyes wide like he was surprised, perhaps dismayed by what he was hearing, and her composure slipped, color rushing to her cheeks--which, a cold part of her that was starting to sound suspiciously like Agent Foster reminded her again that a genuine reaction like that was probably all the better for authenticity. But the nervous feeling rising up her chest wasn't about deceiving anyone, but rather more about her brother's reaction and what he might be thinking of her. Had she stepped on a mine after all? Maybe it would explode the moment the pressure was off. _We agreed, damn it,_ she thought, but anger didn't help. "Sorry," she mumbled, looking down. "I guess that was oversharing." If she had to, later she could explain to Justin that she just used a fantasy she had for someone else and said it was him. If they had a chance to talk again without worrying about being overheard. That could be a long time, or a few minutes, depending on how things went. "I mean, you _did_ ask."

"I did," Mialin agreed cheerfully, then turned to her brother. "What about you? You seem to be a little uncomfortable."

He shifted in his seat, shook his head quickly. "No, no. I was just, uh, remembering that. And wondering if you guys have showers. You probably use, like, sonic showers or something."

A _Star Trek_ reference. That was part of their code, too. Outside of a few specific phrases, a random _Trek_ reference was supposed to be sort of an all purpose, _"Don't worry. It's okay."_ Mialin didn't notice that, but then she probably didn't get the reference at a fundamental level. "I don't use showers at all," she revealed, which made sense... dirt probably didn't stick to energy fields. "But water is plentiful, and it's easy enough to make it rain from the ceiling. I could do it here, if you want to clean yourselves from your trip and maybe also have sex right now."

"Uh, no, that's okay," Justin said quickly, maybe too quickly.

"Are you sure?" Mialin asked. "I won't mind. I'd even enjoy it on an anthropological level. Not a sexual one, if that would bother you."

"It's just..." Cheryl said. "For humans sex is usually really _private_ anyway? And especially for us..."

"Yeah, an audience would make us uncomfortable."

"Maybe it's a hangup but I think it wouldn't be as special. I mean, I know you're suspicious of us and if we _had_ to, to prove we're together, like as a _requirement_..." Cheryl cut the sentence off off and mentally chastised herself. _Another stupid misstep._ That might just give her the idea to ask just that. Now the only thing she could do was bluff, make it seem like it wouldn't bother her. "I mean we _would_, but... we'd be so awkward just from knowing you were watching, judging, that you'd probably just get more suspicious." Now her heart was racing with the thought that she was screwing things up, she was doing so well but one mistake and now she was going into a tailspin that was just going to get them kicked out as spies, so they went through all this for nothing, and maybe screwed up bad enough that Agent Foster wouldn't help them with their records afterwards...

"That won't be necessary," Mialin said, and the butterflies in Cheryl's stomach quelled, a little. "I believe your relationship is genuine and very sweet. My opinion hasn't changed since the beginning." Cheryl let out a long slow breath of relief, calming down though with that strange sense of disappointment she sometimes felt when the worst didn't happen, only because, if it didn't yet, it would inevitably happen _soon_. Sometimes it feels better to have the big drop of the roller coaster _behind_ you instead of ahead. Maybe she should have thought of it like that rather than a minefield, even if it wasn't as honest. "So you can keep your backward sexual hangups. I understand that most human couples won't have sex in front of a stranger, and the whole point of coming to us is that you want to live and love like any other human couple, _despite_ the fact that you're related, right?" Both of them nodded. "That's why it concerns me that you're not affectionate at all. It's as though deep down you're ashamed of your feelings, which makes me worry that you won't truly accept _others_ who are like you, and you may come to resent one another."

"It's not like that," Cheryl said. "I mean, we've never met anybody like us, but... we have a saying, _Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations_." Another _Trek_ reference, to hopefully signal to Justin that if it goes where it looked like it might be, she was okay with it. But no sense in looking too eager. "It's just we've always had to act so normal whenever anyone else is around, it's like... instinctual now." 

"Yeah," Justin agreed.

Mialin tilted her head. "You said you were reluctant to relocate to the Mars colony because you were afraid that the humans there might not really accept you... but if you act like _this_ whenever anyone's nearby, who's going to know? None of _us_ would tell them. For that matter, if you're planning on acting like the obvious romantic feelings you have for each other _don't_ exist, then I'm not sure why you actually _need_ refugee status at all. We can help you with a new identity and you can simply stay on Earth."

"We don't _want_ to stay on Earth," Justin said. "It's... well, it's been both of our dreams to explore strange new worlds, sure, but it's not _just_ that. We also really do want to go places that accept us, so we can be _openly_ together... when we're _ready_." 

"You've got that backwards. The first step to _being_ accepted is to be open about who you really are. The only reason to hide is because you're ashamed or you don't trust the people you're with. If you want my help, why not demonstrate that you trust me, respect Pa-Var culture, and that you accept yourselves? And for that matter, demonstrate to _each other_ you're not willing to be ashamed. There is, after all, a certain activity that romantic couples usually engage in that is _not_ considered lewd to do in public."

"You want us to kiss," Justin said, as though it wasn't obvious.

"From what you've told me, you _like_ kissing, do you not?"

"I mean, you do realize that family members _not_ in a relationship kiss sometimes?" _Why did he say_ that, Cheryl thought. Was he just stalling? Maybe she should too... she considered pointing out that public displays of affection aren't always welcome even among boyfriends and girlfriends. 

"Please. I have spent more than an afternoon reading up on your culture." Was that some kind of idiom, Cheryl wondered, or had she literally just spent a little more than an afternoon brushing up on all of humanity. "There's a difference between kisses between family and kisses between lovers... except of course, when they're one and the same. So show me the kind of kiss you'd use to show everyone that you're in love with your sister, and you don't care who knows it."

Cheryl glanced at her brother, her heart racing. This might be it, the big make-or-break moment... if the next few seconds went poorly, it meant they went through all of this for nothing. Justin looked back at her, as though checking one last time if she was okay, a signal she tried her best to send with only her eyes, and an instinctive biting of her bottom lip so she could wet it with her tongue. He took her hand again, gave it a squeeze, and leaned forward. 

_Our whole future hinges on this kiss,_ Cheryl thought. _You better make it convincing._

\--

"No, no! You've gotta give it more _passion_! You're kissing her like you're kissing your _sister_."

"She _is_ my sister," Justin pointed out. He stood at arm's length away from Cheryl now that the kiss was over, both of them in the living room, with Agent Foster sitting on the couch, eating the occasional handful of sunflower seeds while he gave them instructions.

"Fair," Agent Foster conceded. "But you're pretending to be an _incestuous_ couple, here, and you knew this was going to come up." They had, distantly, but Cheryl hadn't really thought much about it. Since they started working with the man, they'd spent most of their time memorizing codes so they could pass information back if they eventually got in and details of their backstory so they wouldn't give different answers. But on this day, after working for a few hours on the old stuff, he suddenly pivoted and decided they needed to work on looking like a natural couple... he wanted them to kiss. "I told you, the Perverts _always_ ask to see a kiss when we send a couple in pretending to be incest refugees. When that happens, you guys _can't_ look like you're fifth graders playing spin the bottle. I mean, you _have_ kissed before, right? Not with each other, but, in general? _Real_ kisses? With tongue and everything?" His eyes darted between the two of them, seeking confirmation. 

"Yes," Justin said, and Cheryl noted his gaze slid sideways towards her, catching her nod, but he didn't seem overly surprised. 

"Then just do that, but with each other." He hopped off the couch and into a standing position remarkably fast. "Just close your eyes this time. Picture someone else."

"I'm sorry," Justin said after a look in her direction and a long hesitation. "It's just a little weird." That was one way to describe it. Seeing her brother lean in so close to her face, feeling his lips press against hers... yup, definitely _strange_.

"I get it. I _do_. That's why you guys need to practice until it's _not_. I mean, look, it doesn't have to be _perfect_. A lot of awkwardness can be covered up by the idea that it's always been something private, that doing it _in front of_ someone is what's weird. But you _do_ need to be willing to go for it and not seem like it's your first time. Now do you want to try again, or do you want me to show you how it's done?"

That got an immediate, angry, reaction. "I'm not letting you french kiss my sister," Justin said.

"Who said anything about your sister?" Agent Foster said with a bit of a cocky smirk. "I mean _you_." He gave a short, dark laugh at Justin's sudden consternation. "Wow, _that_ looks like it bothers you even more than kissing your sister. What's the matter, fragile masculinity? Maybe a little kernel of instinctual homophobia drummed into you? I'm not gay, by the way, but I'd _still_ kiss you to prove a point or maintain a cover. That's what _you_ need to be like." He leaned in closer, almost as though he was going to kiss Justin, but instead just lowered his voice and said, "It's just lips and tongue, man. Anything else is in your head. Lips and tongue. There's nothing romantic, nothing sexual about it, unless you _choose_ to see it that way. Did you know in some cultures, that's just how family always kisses?"

"Is that true?" Justin asked Cheryl, as though expecting she would somehow know, when he was the world traveller and the one with the most kissing experience... but she all she could do was shrug. She knew families from some cultures did kiss on the lips, but she didn't know any that used tongues. It wasn't out of the realm of possibility... after all, in some countries, incest _was_ legal. 

"Look it up later," Foster said. "For now, give your sister another kiss, and this time, actually hold her... and try opening your mouth a little." He went back to sitting, watching. 

Justin turned to her, looked down at his hands, her waist. "Is it okay? If I put my hands around your waist?"

"It's fine," she said. He touched her then, gently, almost like he was afraid to put any pressure on her, but instead just rested with one hand on her waist, almost like practising some kind of dance move, which was totally natural, even if it was somewhere near her butt it wasn't like a grab, like one guy at school had done when they danced. It _wouldn't_ go there. 

They hung like that, for a second, and Foster sighed impatiently. "A little _faster_ here? At this rate you guys might be ready to show a Pa-Var a decent kiss when you're in your thirties."

"Look," Justin said. "We're willing to give this a try, just... don't rush us, okay?"

"I don't want to rush you, but you're moving at a snail's pace, and I remind you, your mother's getting off work in an hour." 

It seemed like a lifeline, for Justin anyway. "That's a good point," he said. "Maybe we should just call it off early, I mean, what if she came home early or something...." 

Mom still didn't know about this plan. That was Cheryl's idea, actually, although Agent Foster was all for it. It was almost funny that Justin, the one who, so far in their lives, had gotten up to the most trouble out of the two of them, was the one who wanted to wait until they had their mother's _permission_ before they started working on this crazy scheme to run off to space as undercover agents for the US government. Cheryl didn't think Mom would be too keen on that plan, or any particular part of it, but imagined they could probably force the issue if they revealed what they were doing, and the fact that it would save the house, _right_ when they were ready to put it into action. And deep down inside, a part of her just wanted to keep that big secret, in revenge for the way Mom kept all her debt from them. See how _she_ liked it. 

That decision still seemed like the right one, but it did leave them with limited time to work with Foster, shuffling sessions between the hours of the tail end of Cheryl's senior year and Mom's work, with Justin's own work schedule and occasional social engagements getting in the way. Which worked for Cheryl, it gave her time to get used to the idea, to not freak out, but Agent Foster seemed to be getting frustrated by the pace. "She's _not_ coming home early. Trust me, I know where she is." And he probably did, he had an uncanny sense for when she left work... or perhaps not that uncanny, considering Cheryl assumed he just had access to her phone's GPS using the same government accesses that gave him access to their school transcripts. "Just give it another try. With tongue this time."

Justin looked into her eyes, worried, doubtful. "Are you okay with that?" She swallowed, nodded. The jittery feeling intensified but... she'd had worse. Had worse with boys she _wasn't_ related to getting close to really kissing her, and the one who did. Maybe it was because she knew Justin wouldn't push it any farther, so this was just like a kiss in a play. 

He leaned in, and she tilted her head up to meet his, then closed her eyes. "Hands, hands," she heard from Foster, and he drew back a second and then put his left hand on her hip again, a little more confidently than before, using it to pull her towards him. Her hand twitched uncertainly, as she wondered if she should try to do something like that too, maybe grab his shirt, pull him towards her, not sure if it would help or freak her brother out and so unable to know what to do with it was left to shake in indecision, all the while Cheryl was realizing even without seeing that his face was getting closer and closer...

And pulling away, as her brother's hand fell from her hip again and he let out a nervous, unsteady laugh, maybe he thought of something funny right as he leaned in, or maybe the whole _thing_ just struck him as ridiculous. Or maybe it was just her face... when she opened her eyes, she noticed his were already open. "I'm sorry," he said, apologizing more to Agent Foster than her. "This is just difficult."

Of course it was difficult. _Obviously,_ Justin didn't want this at all, she could tell... even if the sister thing wasn't a factor she knew he probably wouldn't want to kiss someone like her. _She_ might be able to get past it, but if he couldn't... maybe there was another way. "Couldn't we just say we're like, asexual and not really into kissing?"

Foster rolled his eyes like it was a ridiculous suggestion. "No. Your whole cover depends on you being an otherwise normal couple, other than that you're siblings. If you're asexual and won't kiss, then you don't need their help. You're making too much of this... you'll just need to do it one time to get past them, and then you're home free, you're shipped to separate postings and the most awkward thing you have to do is write each other love letters." That was the part that made this all workable... not the love letters, that was more cover, but Foster insisted that they didn't send couples to their Study in the Stars program. So, Cheryl would go, and Justin would go either to Mars or if he was lucky get a job on a ship out there, harvesting asteroids or exploring strange new worlds out there on the final frontier... ideally something where he could learn helpful stuff to send back about alien propulsion systems. Though she knew she'd miss him. "One kiss, and a little rehearsal to make it look natural." 

Which could potentially mean a _lot_ of kissing, when you got right down to it. And who knew what _else_ they might have to pretend? "Yeah, but... what if they're not _satisfied_ with that?" Cheryl asked, her mind racing down paths she'd avoided considering before. "I mean, if they're _really_ worried about spies, a kiss isn't going to be much proof... they could demand we do more." She hoped it sounded right, that they all knew she needed reassurance, rather than think she was making a suggestion.

"It probably won't come to that." She could see it in his eyes, though, before the confident smile, he acknowledged it as a possibility. And then, maybe seeing she wasn't convinced, added, "All we ask is that you give it your best shot. However, I will say that, at the conclusion of this operation, the US government is prepared to give you a blanket pardon for any crimes you may commit in the process."

_Why would he bring that up?_ "...it almost sounds like you're saying we should have sex if it preserves the mission."

Foster held up his hands defensively. "I'm absolutely _not_ saying that." The hands lowered. "I'm just saying if you _chose_ to, it wouldn't concern me. Frankly, this would have been easier if you actually _were_ secretly a couple. I don't have any moral objection to incest, as long as it's not abusive, and you guys are above the age of consent, so what would I care? I mean, it's _weird_, but I've seen a lot worse in this business." He gave a casual, disinterested shrug. "Ideally, I'd say just the country should just play ball, make it legal like the Perverts want... small price to pay to avoid America falling into the status of a third world shithole. But that's not my call, and unfortunately thanks to some scurrilous and might I add _completely_ unsubstantiated accusations revolving around the President's family, it's just politically impossible for anyone in the administration to even suggest it. So we work with what we've got and that means getting people behind Pa-Var lines. And I'm telling you, a kiss is _probably_ going to be enough. If it isn't, and you get rejected because of it... well, we'll fix your reputations. I promise. You won't be heroes, you won't go into space, but you can go back to your normal lives." 

Though Cheryl understood the other side of that, the unspoken suggestion that if they did do _whatever_ was required for the mission, they would be heroes, they would go into space, and, for that matter, they'd be helping Mom keep their house. What would _that_ be like? The thought came into her brain, along with an image, that should have been shocking but just made her a little nervous. She pushed it away... it would probably come into her head again later, but for now she could focus on the level of deception she was already comfortable with. A kiss... a kiss she could do. Even if it meant a lot of practice.

"But if you can't even kiss, we're all wasting our time here," Foster continued. 

Cheryl looked up at her brother, trying to see if he was game to try again. The agent did have a point. Kissing him, like that, would be weird, but the sooner they did it the sooner they could get over the weirdness. At least that made sense to her... but Justin couldn't seem to meet her eye for more than a second, looking down and away first, then finally, to Agent Foster to say, "I think we need a little time to think about this. Maybe this kind of mission isn't for us after all."

Stone-faced, Foster stared at him for a few seconds. "Come on, let's have a talk. Just the two of us." He stood up again, waved Justin over one handed, sounding relaxed, seeming unbothered, but there was something in his eyes that worried Cheryl. Justin went, though, allowed Foster to guide him by a friendly hand on his back out of the living room, just looking back at Cheryl to say, "You just stay put, turn on the TV or something, I need to have a guy-to-guy heart-to-heart with your brother for a minute."

She nodded, listened to them walk out in relative silence to the back porch and slide the door closed. Then, automatically moving on her tiptoes, she darted from the room and into the kitchen that opened out on the back, getting as close as she could without risk of being seen.

It was her worst habit, unless you counted her anxiety as a habit, which she didn't, _that_ was a mental illness. But snooping, eavesdropping, that was something she _knew_ was wrong but she couldn't resist the little thrill it gave her, and now she could convince herself it was good practice for the vocation that had suddenly been thrust upon her. 

She was cautious about it... she'd only been caught eavesdropping a few times, and usually she could explain it, but the anxiety, the knowledge that she really was betraying a trust never left and so she didn't dare get close enough that she could hear the entire conversation. Justin was talking too quietly, and much of what she could hear sounded mumbley, so she had to try to piece together what she could from Agent Foster's side, and even that was fragmentary, only a few words and phrases. He sounded more angry than he let on earlier, a restrained aggravation rather than furious shouting, but she heard "wasting my time" clearly, and something about "you need to think about your future." Then it turned softer and she heard something about "someone else", and "biological reaction" and that was it for a while, except for the phrase "get _over_ yourself." She got the sense that the pep-talk, if that's what it was, was wrapping up, so she danced back to the living room and sat on the couch with her phone, to pretend she was looking at texts from her friends.

To her surprise, it was at least another two minutes before she heard the porch door slide open again, enough time to make her wonder and start to low-key panic over the fact that there were, in fact, no new texts from her friends, like they forgot all about her or only would talk to her if she initiated... which was ridiculous, she knew, after all, she'd just seen them in school a couple hours ago, and there wasn't really anything on the group chat either so everyone was probably just busy... but somehow her brain wouldn't stop reminding her that everyone was probably already getting ready to let go of these friendships, _especially_ with her. 

Justin's return was a welcome break, even if it meant more kissing practice which made her anxious as well, but at least it was completely normal anxiousness about a weird situation... that had a comfort of its own, knowing that anybody else would be uncomfortable, unlike the stress about her friend's going-away party this weekend. Another thing she didn't want to think about, so, noticing her brother came back alone, she asked instead, "Where's Agent Foster?"

"He's having a smoke." A vape, technically, if past history was any indication, but he liked to do that outside, and Cheryl wondered if maybe he needed a break from the two of them now and then.

"Did he yell at you?"

"No. I mean, not really yelling. He's not happy with me, though."

"Did he kiss you to show you how it's done?" she asked with a playful smirk. 

"No!" he said sharply. "And for the record, I _am_ more bothered about the idea of him kissing you than me." She tilted her head at that, and he added, almost embarrassed, "I mean he's like in his thirties. You never know if a guy like that's just being a perv."

"So what did you talk about?"

He took his time answering, which told Cheryl more than anything that he wasn't telling her the whole story. "He's just frustrated about our lack of progress."

Cheryl blew a puff of air out of her mouth. "Hypocrite, considering he's the one taking all the breaks to go vape."

"I actually asked him to stay behind this time," he told her. "I suggested it might be less awkward if we could try it _without_ him staring at us."

She straightened up on the couch, put her phone to the side. "Oh." she said.

"I mean, not _really_," he said, speaking so quickly the words were tripping out of his mouth. "I just wanted to have a second to talk to you without him around." He took a breath and calmed, "Just... answer me honestly, Cheryl. We can stop all this, so... do you still really want to do this?" he asked. 

"Yes, I really do," she said, and then after a second realized how that sounded and felt her own face warm and she started rambling. "I mean, not the _kissing_, obviously, I don't want to kiss you, I just mean.... I want what comes _after_ that." That potentially sounded even _worse_, so she clarified, "I mean getting the chance to get off this planet. It's my dream, and it's still yours too, right?" she waited for his nod. "So, for me, you, and to help Mom too, _yes_ I still want to do this. I just keep telling myself, _Ad astra_."

"_Ad astra_," he repeated. 

"To the stars, through hardship," she reminded him, translating the full phrase instead of just the short hand, even though he knew it. "So, I don't care if it's hard, I want this. If that means practice-kissing you... I mean, I don't want _that_ part..."

"_I_ don't want it either," he interrupted to insist, like he was afraid she might think so. 

"Of course not," she agreed, to make sure he knew she didn't. "It's just... part of the hardships. Our cover."

"I thought you'd be less okay with it." Was that criticism? It didn't sound like it, but the words made her frown anyway, at least until he continued, "Part of what's bothering me is that every time I get close I'm worried I'm going to trigger you having a panic attack. But you seem okay?"

A look of appraisal followed, which she knew was probably just making sure she _was_ okay but a part of her still worried. "It doesn't really bother me like that," she explained. "I mean, if you were somebody _else_, and it was a _real_ kiss it probably would freak me out a lot more, to be honest. It's just... I don't know, I guess... I mean, I trust you'd never actually _do_ anything. So it doesn't trigger my anxiety much... it's just _weird_."

"_Totally_ weird," he agreed, and it seemed that he was saying it for her benefit... not that it wasn't true, but that he wanted to make sure she knew it. "I feel like _I'm_ more anxious than you are about it." Again, she wondered, just for a moment, if he was accusing her of something... that really was making her anxious. "I mean, I feel like even just pretending... this could screw up our relationship."

She relaxed, then, realizing it wasn't _her_ she was worried about, probably, but rather a misunderstanding. Which made her smile a little, remembering how fast he agreed that he didn't want to kiss, a few things fell into place, and she said, "You know what we need? We need a _pact_."

"A pact? What, like a Klingon Blood Oath? That if this goes wrong we track Foster down and eat his heart or something?"

She smirked. "No, a pact. It just... I don't know, just..." The idea she had danced in her mind, just out of reach of a way to express it. She needed another tactic... pure logic. "Let's Vulcan this out. The only reason pretending something could ruin our relationship is if one of us thought the other _wasn't_ pretending." Or if it was true, but she knew _that_ was impossible, Justin couldn't possibly have feelings like that for her, and she just thought of him as the comforting rock in her life. "And I think that's what both of us have been afraid of here. I'm not afraid of _you_... I trust you, and I know if we kiss and it's, you know, passionate, it's just because you're thinking of someone else, so I don't have anxiety about it. And I might not _like_ what we have to do, but you know, I've been in plays before, I've had to do stage kisses and make them look good, I just sort of zone out into the role. The _only_ thing that freaks me out is worrying that you might think I'm acting _too_ well. And I'm guessing it's sort of the same with you."

"Yeah," he admitted, and seemed relieved now that she'd identified the problem.

"So, a pact," she repeated. "That no matter what we say, or do, as part of this... performance, we swear to each other that we never believe the other person means it, or wants it as anything other than a way to make our _real_ dreams come true."

"Okay," Justin said with a nod. "That sounds good. But we need two pacts."

She squinted at him. ".... one for each of us? I don't think that's how pacts work."

"No, I mean... we should agree that if _either_ of us ever can't do it anymore and wants to back out, all one person needs to do is say so, and we abandon it, no matter what, no guilt or resentment. And that we tell each other if that's what we want."

Cheryl knew that he was asking that for _her_... he wasn't asking for an escape hatch, he was asking her to promise to tell him if she couldn't handle it. "Fine," she agreed quickly, although in her heart she knew that even if she _wanted_ to quit, she probably would keep going for his sake. And she _could_ handle it, she knew. _Probably no matter how far we have to take it_, she thought, and had that sensation of pushing aside thinking too much about something until later. "_Two_ pacts. Shake on it?" She held out a hand, and he took it, and although this was only technically holding hands, it gave her an idea, that they should practice that too, looking like a couple.

"Deal," he said.

After that, it seemed like they were at a loss for what to say. Hoping that the first pact wasn't immediately about to get broken, Cheryl dared to say, "So... I mean, when Agent Foster comes back he might be pretty mad if we haven't actually _tried_ to kiss." If he reacted badly, she could just say she was testing his resolve.

Instead, he just said. "Oh. Right. Um, are you _ready_, then?"

"I'm ready."

"And it's okay if I... I mean we're doing this open-mouth, right?" She nodded. "Let's try this."

He leaned in, and Cheryl thought randomly of the Star Destroyers colliding in _Rogue One_, seemingly inevitable once it was in progress, but everything moving with a glacial slowness despite the size and danger. She even had time to think that it was a ridiculous comparison because they liked _Star Trek_ more than _Star Wars_, and there had to be a good _Trek_ example... but then she stopped thinking, or at least thinking clearly, he'd gotten too close, and this time wasn't pulling off, their own collision was about to happen, and she was consumed by the burst of anxiety taking over her body, her heart racing, entire body warm, thoughts almost a jumble... and yet she didn't pull away, she moved in a way that felt natural, mouth open despite her awareness that his was as well, just closed her eyes so she couldn't see her brother and instead think of somebody else. 

Nobody else came to mind, and she ran out of time. This was far different than the tight-lipped peck on the lips they'd done in front of Foster, this was a _real_ kiss, even if it was just pretend, and her heartbeat banged in her ears far louder than it had that time. Yet now, like then, she didn't pull away, and she felt a little thrill of pleasure she knew was only from being successful at fighting past any anxiety, something that was rare enough to deserve celebration, even if the circumstances were a little weird. 

It certainly _was_ weird, feeling her brother's open mouth on hers, the warmth, the sensation of wetness somewhere that she already thought of as wet, like it was a fundamentally different kind of matter, and a soft pressure that she couldn't decide whether to push back against or yield to. So many sensations she wasn't sure how to react to except the natural moves from other kisses... and, one thing missing. Although incredibly aware of her brother's tongue, it wasn't from contact but rather absence, like he was making an effort to _avoid_ it touching her and so it lurked in her awareness, like an unseen animal in the woods of an alien planet, detected on sensors but still a big unknown, making her almost jump with every accidental reminder it was out there, somewhere. Though this wasn't a threat, she knew, it was Justin protecting her even now, not like prior kiss with a guy at school where the tongue was aggressive and scary. _It's not realistic though_, she thought, _to be that careful of your tongues during an open-mouthed kiss_. It might look odd to the Pa-Var. Something they'd have to work on in future attempts. At least she knew she could _handle_ future attempts, she was anxious and flush but not actually panicking. She wondered how far she could go. How far they might have to go?

Justin pulled away, and his face was red too, and shifted his whole body an inch or two away from her, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Well, um," he said, then, after a few seconds of awkward silence, he asked, "How was that?"

She felt a smirk tugging up one corner of her lip. "Are you _seriously_ asking your _sister_ whether you're a good kisser?"

"_No_, I just meant..."

She laid a hand on his arm. "I know what you meant, I'm just teasing. It was... you know, like I expected, a little weird. This definitely counts as strange new frontiers." That earned her a weak smile. "But I can get past it. And, hey, now we've _done_ the hardest part." _Hardest part _if_ kissing is _all_ that's required_, some part of her brain brought up silently. "We've crossed through the minefield without exploding." She regretted that particular metaphor as soon as it was out, since clearing a minefield once didn't mean you wouldn't blow up the _next_ time. And they needed to do it more than once. "The world didn't end. So next time it won't be so scary."

"Next time," Justin repeated, although not as a question, more like he was just reminding himself that it wasn't a one-time thing.

"Yeah. I mean, this was a good first step, but if we're going to get to the stars, we still need a _lot_ of work making it look natural."

"_Ad astra_." He didn't sound the most confident about it, but at least he wasn't quite so tense.

"_Ad astra_," she agreed. "Don't worry. I'm sure we'll get better at it."

_Practice makes perfect_, she reminded herself.


	8. The Big Goodbye

The kisses had gotten better since the first time. That was pretty scary in its own way, but it was all just for show and Justin knew Cheryl was always at her best when a performance finally came. Occasionally people had flat out denied she had anxiety because she seemed so natural in the school plays... they claimed she was probably acting whenever she needed anxiety as an excuse. But those people were idiots, and didn't see the costs before and after. 

This kiss was different for a couple reasons... the stakes, of course, and the fact that they were literally being watched by an alien from outer space, but subtler things, too. After such a long trip, the kiss tasted different, for one thing. Most of their practice kissing, Justin had used mouthwash or a breath mint just before, so at least his breath wouldn't be off-putting. But here, in the Visitor's Center, there was no time for that, and so the kiss was rawer, in some ways more intimate, because he was actually tasting his sister instead of the antiseptic mint flavor. Well, his sister and alien oatmeal burrito, but that latter taste had faded, mostly. 

Another difference was that it felt like they both _went_ for it more, committed to the moment... in some ways, at least. In some of their earlier practice sessions, they'd got their tongues more active than he was really comfortable with, all in the interests of making a big show. It was as though Foster knew that, when the moment finally came, without someone coaching them, they'd be more subdued and hesitant, and so deliberately pushed them harder in practice. _That_ had felt false, but here, without Foster's influence, their tongues did dance a little around each other, but it wasn't over-the-top. At the same time, he didn't think it looked like they were holding back, that they were afraid of touching like they were the first time. It didn't _feel_ like it either. There was definitely something more to the kiss than usual, or at least it seemed that way, although he didn't think about what causing that feeling as it was happening, immediately after he did reflect on little notes he never remembered being a factor in any of their practices, from the caress of his hand up the side of her neck to pull her closer to him, to the second, shorter kiss immediately upon parting, as though Cheryl hadn't wanted to let go, and needed one last playful nibble on his lower lip before breaking that one. That was, he had to admit, a master stroke, reminding him of some of the best kisses he'd had before his sister.   
Of course, this was all for an audience, not for him, and if all went as planned, it would be the _last_ such kiss. Maybe they would do a couple more quick casual pecks just to keep up the show that they were a couple, and probably one more good one for the big goodbye when they went on their separate voyages, but there was no need to simulate heat. _If_ it had worked. After their lips parted, he softly pressed his forehead against Cheryl's, affectionate, honest despite being in-character, but also because he was afraid to look at Mialin and see her reaction, to see if she'd been convinced. It was almost enough to convince him, so he could afford to be hopeful, but with an alien how could you know?

Finally he did slide his eyes over to their voyeur, and was relieved to see a wide smile, and she clapped her hands together once, sharply but gleefully (though, oddly, with only a weird buzzing sound at the moment of contact instead of anything natural). "See? That wasn't so hard, was it? Doesn't it feel _so_ much better to not have to pretend anymore?"

"It does," Cheryl said. "It's going to take a while to get used to though."

"Well you'll have the time," Mialin said. "I've decided to approve your refugee application." 

Justin let out a breath he hadn't felt that he was holding. He'd been so scared of a turnaround, that Mialin would reveal she knew all along they were faking and that was what she meant by '_not having to pretend._' But no, it seemed like she really _was_ talking about not having to pretend not to be a couple. "Thank you," he managed.

"No thanks are necessary. It's a joy to help the less fortunate. So, let's talk about your futures. Now I know your sister seemed to have her heart set on our _Study in the Stars_ program... I hate that translation, you know? I was in favour of _Cosmic Journey of Discovery_." Her hand raised as though the words would appear in the air as some sort of CGI effect, and then she frowned theatrically. "They said it didn't '_sound as good_' in English, but... you know, nevermind, I'm getting off the topic. I just meant to ask, do you want the same program for yourself?"

"I mean, _ideally_, I'd love to," Justin said. "But if only one of us can go, I want it to be Cheryl. I can always do other things.... like, I've heard rumors online that you have an exploration fleet that sounds like a dream come true." It was supposed to be a long shot, but Foster told him to ask. "I mean, I'm not that picky, I'll even wait out Cheryl's schooling on Mars, but I'd like to be useful in some way and it just doesn't seem like you need more farmers on Mars and I'm not really the Mark Watney type." He didn't pause long to see if Mialin recognized the reference... it was really more intended for Cheryl anyway, and on her lips there was a faint twitch of a smile that made it worth it. "Or maybe I could take like, an apprenticeship on some kind of mining ship or something." That was another suggestion from Foster, based on descriptions of other opportunities they posted on the Pa-Var website... this one less pie-in-the-sky, as some human refugees had supposedly been accepted aboard these ships.

"I could look into resource survey ships and see if any of them is willing to take you on, but I can't make it a promise as they have their own standards. And the rumors are true, we do have something that might be called an exploration fleet, and it _could_ be a good place for you," Mialin said, raising Justin's hopes for a moment before adding, "Someday. However, that path would require you to complete a _Study in the Stars_ program first. So if that's really what you want to do with your life, why not just go to school _together_? I mean, you two just got the chance to be together freely, it seems a shame to separate you now."

Time seemed to grind for a halt. _This wasn't the plan._ "But..." he tried to find a reason to give why that might not be a good idea, but all that he could come up with was what Foster had said. "We heard that even with couples like us you don't send them to school together."

"Oh, no, that's just something we tell the _spies_ who apply," Mialin said, seemingly oblivious to how much she'd just changed everything. "It really throws them off-kilter, since they're used to working in teams and it's fun watching them scramble. It's a shame that's filtered out to the human rumor mill though. " She pouted. "Now I wonder if we might be scaring off _real_ couples like you guys. I can't believe it, did you _really_ come here expecting we'd separate a couple in love who'd come to us to be together?" 

"No, I mean, not for _good_." Justin stumbled through an explanation. "But... you know, just for as long as school took? If our Mom never caught us we were going to have to spend time apart anyway when Cheryl went off to college, so..." He trailed off, hoping Mialin would somehow agree that was for the best, and then they could get back to the plan... go their separate ways to learn what they could, then when they finally reunited pretend that their passions had cooled doing the long distance relationship thing and they didn't really want to be a couple anymore. If that got them sent back to Earth, all the better, they could become famous for pulling one over on the Perverts. 

"Well, now you don't have to, so you don't even have to give up the sex you enjoy so much!" She smiled down at them, then her eyes widened and smile faded as she thought of something. "Well, you can't have bone each other as _much_ as you'll probably want, I suppose. We don't actually allow couples to live in the same.... I guess you'd call them _dorms_? Except for certain species for whom cohabitation is culturally or biologically required, at least. The point is to learn about other types of people, and if you're banging like rabbits every chance you get, it kind of works against that. But, you know, at least you can openly be a couple and don't worry, there'll be _plenty_ of chances to go off somewhere private to do the nasty." She rolled her eyes and added, making it clear she found the concept incredibly provincial, "Since _apparently_ privacy during monkey business is _sooo_ important to you." The smile returned. "So, shall I look for a schoolship with two spots open?"

Justin swallowed, as his mind raced, trying to sort through the possibilities. They planned to have to play as a couple for a short period, days at most, not for months or however long the Pa-Var school system lasted. But he'd already _said_ he wanted to go to the school, and backing out would look suspicious... nor could he really ask Cheryl about this new change, at least not openly, with Mialin right in front of them. "Ummm...." He looked into his sister's eyes... he could tell that this development surprised her, too, had thrown her off-balance enough that she wasn't sure what to say. _All you have to say is you can't do this_, he thought, as though she could somehow read his thoughts. Sometimes it felt like she could. _We had a pact, and this wasn't what Foster had promised._

Yet... space, the final frontier. _Ad astra._ It was their dream, both of them, and though he didn't want to put her through this he also didn't want her resenting him for messing up their one shot... pact be damned. 

"Is there _actual_ privacy, though?" Cheryl asked, suddenly. "I mean, since you don't seem to care about it. I don't want to have to worry about hidden cameras recording us being, you know, intimate."

It may have been a question directed at Mialin, but Justin couldn't help but think it was also directed at him, a signal. If she wanted to quit, there'd be no _need_ to ask that question. And depending on what Mialin said... "We don't monitor our people to that extent," she said, not seeming to be offended. "I mean, there are certain areas where we keep track of where people are and what they're doing, to better serve the community as a whole, but there's always private spaces that are _truly_ private, for those who have taboos about being observed. Most Kenrie, for example, would be unwilling to join Pa-Var operations if they thought people could be watching them eat, and among biological species it's relatively common for bathrooms to be private. So trust me, you won't have to worry about people watching you making whoopie. But, since you'd be the only humans there, that makes it an ideal place to practice being open about your relationship in a place that wouldn't judge you."

That meant they could continue the charade--would probably _have_ to, in fact--but didn't have to do anything more than they already did, if they could go off to a private room and let everyone assume they were having sex. Nevertheless, it was risky. Pretending to be a couple, holding hands, _kissing_ even... possibly for months or years... it was hard enough as things were, with an end date firmly in sight. 

Was Cheryl really going to be able to handle it if they had to continue things long term? Since the start, his sister had been better at playing the role than him, and obviously thought she could continue, but he knew she was only okay with it because of what they got out of it. Like getting a job to pay tuition... of course, he'd done his best to spare her that, too. Everyone had limits, and Cheryl's were mostly of the social variety... this sort of thing--kissing your own brother, pretending to be in love with him, knowing people at home _believed_ it and thought less of her for it--it all _had_ to bother her, deep down, and the last thing he wanted was to be the cause of an anxiety meltdown because she just couldn't take it any more. Could she keep the mask up for that long?

She _said_ she could... or at least, implied it with her question to Mialin. Shouldn't he trust that? After thoughtlessly hurting her feelings on one memorable occasion when they were younger, he swore to himself never again would he contradict her or openly doubt her if she said she could do something, but instead just check in and offer support if it became necessary. So far, this plan was the biggest test of that vow, even if, so far, she'd handled everything admirably... better than him, in fact.

He'd managed to avoid openly questioning her most of the time, but worry plagued him nonetheless... this was merely a new wrinkle to it. The thing that he thought had always bothered him most was the _after_ the refugee interview, the very fact that it meant leaving his sister alone and he'd not be there to help. No more than a _normal_ college would, but he had always worried about _that_ too... just without saying anything. He truly _did_ have faith that she could get along without him... as her brother he would always be concerned and want to make things easier for her, but that didn't mean he didn't think she could do it. 

If he was honest, what bothered him most might have been that she _could,_ that he really was not needed. Cheryl was the smart one, the creative one, the talented one, and she continually impressed him. But as for himself? He had a lot of big dreams but deep down he doubted his abilities... playing the protective older brother was the only thing where he felt genuine purpose, where he wasn't just putting on a mask someone else might like. Maybe that was why his first instinct after Mialin offered to let him go to the same school was relief at the idea that they could be together, even if it did mean more of this awkward pretending... another kind of role, but one that seemed to feel more natural the more he did it. It was unsettling that he felt like more of a fraud backpacking through Europe than pretending to date his sister. That wasn't so dissimilar from just being a caring brother, except for the kissing. And even _that_....

_That_ was it, why that first blush of relief and pleasure had turned to worry, that the pretending would continue, and he wasn't sure that was good for him, for either of them. There were awkward feelings he knew he probably shouldn't be indulging. He was sure he wouldn't _do_ anything deliberately to screw things up, as he'd gotten good at keeping a mask on, but what if slipped up and somehow gave himself away and ruined everything? Even if that possibility was small, the potential consequences were huge. 

"And, almost as important," Mialin continued, oblivious to his concerns, "an unrivalled learning experience that will prepare you for your life together afterwards. There's a universe of possibilities out there, and a lifetime of joy if you're ready to explore them."

A universe of possibilities might be out there, but Justin knew some of them had to remain unexplored forever. 

Did that mean giving up on the rest of them, too? He hoped not. He looked to his sister, and thought he saw the same hopeful eagerness in her eyes that he'd seen a few times before. Was he going to crush that because of his own crazy hangups? Especially when they'd already burned so many bridges just to get here... some of them might never be completely repairable... even leaving aside Agent Foster's reaction and the things he threatened in their private conversations, things he still hadn't told Cheryl about. If his sister had wanted to quit, he'd risk all that to make sure she could, but just for himself? It was a lot scarier. 

That itself made him think it might be okay... one thing he was good at was putting her first. Why should that change? The plan... it might _still_ work. Just with a few modifications to make sure that stayed true. A universe of possibilities, but now it seemed to come down to a single choice... what was best for Cheryl... to make them back out and try to go back to the world they knew, forever longing for more... or to respect her choice, and take a step into a new frontier?

"Then what are we waiting for?" he asked. After all, they were already a few miles into this strange new frontier, and they'd already taken most of the risk just getting to this point.

\---

Justin couldn't count the number of times he'd run down the walkway in front of his home and on to the street... but every one of those times it was because he was late for class or excited to go see a friend, or otherwise generally in a rush to get somewhere. Actually _fleeing_ his home was new, and made the dreadful lump in his stomach even worse.   
It wasn't _truly_ a panicked escape from his home, though it was meant to look like one, in case any neighbors watched. They might not have known the reason for the yelling, or the angry toss through the door after him of an already broken camera, calculated to attract their attention if the raised voices inside earlier hadn't, but they would know _something_ happened, which would work with the cover story. 

Making that lump worse was that he was out here alone. That wasn't unexpected, but actually doing it felt so much worse than he thought it would, because of the uncertainty, cut off from knowing what was happening inside. He stopped at the curbside, staring up at the windows, looking for some sign.

_There_.... a shadow, out at the back, just barely in sight. Cheryl was making her escape now, and his stomach now tied itself in knots worrying that she might fall. This part was her idea... instead of following him through the door, she would escape out her window, as though she was sent there and forbidden from leaving, but followed him anyway, out of misplaced teen love, and more, followed him with a pack full of clothes and supplies so they could run away together. Cheryl told him she'd always wanted to sneak out that way, climbing out her window and down the back porch, and swore she could do it, that she'd tested it before to make sure... but never had the occasion or the courage to actually make an authentic escape in violation of rules. Anxiety kept her out of a lot of trouble in her teen and adolescent years, an almost perfect daughter from Mom's perspective, before tonight, but it seemed like she had a little seed of rebelliousness she always wanted to indulge, and this was the perfect time. Though, he supposed, she wasn't _actually_ sneaking out today either, as by now their mother knew what was going to happen, even if she didn't like it... this was just another performance, like their kisses. Maybe nobody would even witness her escape, but perhaps it satisfied her on some level all the same.

She stumbled, just a little, on her final landing, igniting a spark of worry in Justin, but she recovered without falling and ran down to meet him, wrapping him up in a tight embrace when they met each other. That was scripted. The full body tremble he felt in her was _not_, couldn't be seen by anyone more than a few feet away, but she was shaking from anxiety built up to levels higher than it ever should have been allowed to get. "Are you okay?" he asked, feeling stupid. Of _course_ she wasn't. 

"I'm okay," she said. "Just hold me for a bit?"

He knew it meant nothing... sometimes the feel of another body just calmed her down, and so he held her tightly, feeling a bit of illicit thrill that people might be watching... he'd held her before, but always in private, as though always conscious of how people might misinterpret. Though with this, unlike kissing, there was no danger of his body betraying him and reacting inappropriately, as he was focused on just being there for her.

"I'm _fine_," she said again, without him having to ask, though still holding him back. Finally, after a few seconds her grip on him loosened, a signal he knew meant he should let go too. She pulled away, just a step, almost looking ashamed and said, "I just... that went so much _worse_ than I imagined it." She meant the big goodbye scene they had with their mother, telling her their plans just when they were ready to go. "I thought she would... I don't know. Not react like _that_."

It was worse than Justin thought it would be too, with a lot more real yelling, and throwing things. They'd tried to explain everything calmly and rationally in terms of the incredible opportunity it gave them, but she reacted almost as negatively as if they really _were_ running off to be with each other. She outright forbade them from going, and wouldn't accept that they didn't actually have to listen to her like they did when they were children. A struggle that ensued when she tried to forcibly unpack Cheryl's prepacked bag resulted in a camera going flying across the room. The sound of glass breaking on one of his sister's favorite possessions made his heart lurch almost as much as his mother's sobs when Foster then intervened. 

"We still need to do it," Cheryl added quickly, again without him asking. "I mean, unless you changed your mind. But _I_ think we should. If we back out now, all this would be for nothing. It's just... I thought Mom would accept it."

"She will, in time." He was running on hope more than anything else there. "Maybe it would have gone better if we hadn't just sprung it on her."

"No, we still did the right thing," Cheryl insisted. "She would have found some way to stop it. I mean, maybe Foster could have handled it more sensitively but...." She trailed off, probably remembering one of the same scenes that had been replaying in his own mind. Foster had been a particular asshole about the whole thing too... if they'd told Mom their plan, even the day before, gave her time to adjust, get on board.... she probably still would have tried to stop it, Justin decided finally. But that didn't mean the man had to back her into a proverbial corner, telling her the police had already been informed that she reported Justin for incest, and that it was either play along or look like a mother who just had second thoughts and was now trying to cover for her children who were having an incestuous, possibly abusive, relationship. 

"Mom shouldn't have reacted like she did," he said. But he could understand it, even though Foster hadn't actually filed the report yet, at least if you could trust what he told them beforehand... it was just to lean on Mom. Justin hadn't felt good about _that_, either, but at the same time, things were arranged to happen at a moment's notice and Justin knew Foster would pull that trigger regardless of whether they were ready. Mom had to have felt trapped, panicked, without even the chance to come to terms with both her children moving out so suddenly. That alone might have caused her to react badly, even if you left out this insane _pretending-to-be-lovers_ plan or _going-to-space_ or _working-for-the-government-secretly-while-publicly-criminals_. Maybe Agent Foster even intended such a negative reaction... now he could also probably threaten Mom with assault on a federal officer for her ineffectual flailing at him just after the camera smashed. At least, he could if they tried to back out of it... if things went as planned, he would probably do nothing at all. The threat didn't have to be stated out loud for Justin to be aware of it... they _had_ to go forward. At least, for a while... he'd still give up the plan if Cheryl stopped being on board, but they'd have to do it in a way that looked like they at least _tried_. His mind worked on possibilities, ranging from deliberately tanking the interview to outright telling the Pa-Var the plan and hoping they'd take pity on them and make it look good, let them leave with disinformation. 

He could feel Cheryl in his arms, her breathing slowing, trembles stilling. "She did what she thought was best." After a second, she added, "Just like _we're_ doing. I just thought she'd see our side more." Another few seconds, she said, "I can't believe it. We're actually doing this." She looked up at him, her eyes shining from tears but she no longer looked on the verge of a collapse. In the twilight and streetlights, she looked strong, resolute, and... beautiful. 

"Yeah." His mouth went dry as he simultaneously felt an urge, to lean down and kiss her, like he'd already done several times, and though a part of him was trying to rationalize that it would look good for observers, the moment that thought crossed his mind he knew it was false, or beside the point... he just wanted to do it, for himself, and maybe out of some deluded idea that it would make her feel better. His arms dropped suddenly as though in panicked denial of both ideas, though still careful enough that he didn't graze her hips or butt when they swung back to him, and only for the emotion to be replaced by a sudden worry that he was abandoning her and his job of being there for her when he was needed.  
Her gaze was still on him, and neither of them had stepped away, so she was still comfortably, uncomfortably close, and she said, "What now?"

His ringtone saved him from having to come up with an answer. The display said Lee, but the voice on the other end was Foster. During their preparations, Foster eventually admitted that although he finally gave up on Lee after he carelessly revealed part of the plan to Justin, his mother's reluctance to participate in the scheme was a much bigger stumbling block. Lee himself, though, was still eager to be useful, out of either patriotism or a hope for future opportunities. In this case, it meant letting Foster use his phone so records would show a plausible trail of how the two made their escape. In theory, Justin would now be asking him for a favor, a ride to a nearby town, with Lee unaware of the incestuous tryst he was aiding. In actuality, Foster first said, "This line is secure," which meant he'd done something to scramble for potential eavesdroppers and they could talk freely. "Okay, we're still on track. I know that was rougher than you expected, but it worked out, and the hard part's over."

"How's our mom?" He turned the phone out so Cheryl could listen too. 

"She's fine. Nothing I haven't been called before. I left her in her room to calm down. She'll be on board _eventually_, don't worry. But, no contact except as previously discussed." Once they were in Pa-Var territory and had access to their communications grid, they'd be allowed to reach out in messages that contained codes and were heavily censored and scripted on Mom's end, but they _could_ talk to her. "For the moment, I'll have a friend pick you up in... ten minutes, in Lee's mom's SUV in front of that Starbucks. Get moving." The line cut off, just like that.

They started quietly down the street. After the third time Justin checked the time on his phone, Cheryl said, "I didn't even bring my phone. I figured, I'd just be checking my friends chat over and over, waiting for the news to break, and... it just wouldn't be good for me. Still, I almost feel _naked_ without it, you know?"

"Yeah." His heart sank as he tried not to think of his sister feeling naked. What was wrong with him? 

"But it's not like I can go back and get it... this is what it's going to be like from now," she said. "Naked all the time." Then she burst into a giggle. "You know what I mean."

"Are you really okay?" he asked. 

"I don't know." That worried him, but she continued, "I'm sort of giddy right now? It doesn't make sense but I am."

Maybe that was it. "It makes total sense," he said, hoping it was true for him as well. This sudden break from everything and his mind was just cracking up a little. "When I went to Europe I had all sorts of weird reactions too." Okay, it was mostly excitement mixed with worry, but he had irrational thoughts of cancelling the trip, even though it meant wasting all the money he saved and missing out on what he thought then was the biggest opportunity of his life. Until aliens came and redefined everything, maybe it _would_ have been. Now, new frontiers had unexpectedly opened up for him, for them both, maybe it was natural to wonder about all the _other_ things that would never, should never happen. 

The purple SUV stopped in front of them, lights off, slim figure in the front wearing a ballcap. He thought it was Lee at first, but it wasn't, an older man who matched his physical type. "Get in," he said through the window, and Justin hauled the door open and held a hand out for Cheryl to step in first.

Once they were safely inside, he started speaking, without even introducing himself. "Okay, in about twenty minutes you'll officially be on the run from the law. You understand that, right?" They both nodded. "Follow the route, and we can keep police presence off you to some degree... what we _can't_ completely control is the media. We project a small, local story, in which case it's going to be all clear... that's why we chose an Ivory Tower far away... it'll take a while to get there and in the meantime that lets the information get out there for the Pa-Var to find when they check out your backstories, while meanwhile hopefully nobody will be _actually_ looking for you. But for all we know this could become some national obsession and have your face on everyone's minds. So be careful, and be subtle." He tossed something he kept on the front passenger seat into the back with both of them. "Here's some go bags, they've got some simple disguises that'll help. Most people don't really look at other people, particularly teenagers." 

Because they'd only dealt with Foster, there was always, at the back of Justin's mind, the idea that this was all just an elaborate prank, that Foster didn't represent the government at all. But this was _too_ elaborate and clearly well-planned out, which meant that their route was probably prepared as promised. That included a night alone with Cheryl in a motel room that was considered a safehouse. His heart beat a little faster at that, the idea filling him with a strange excitement even though he knew nothing would happen other than getting some sleep and watching TV. And _maybe_ a little more practice kissing... the thought skittered across his brain and he winced at it, not because it was an unpleasant thought but because it was _supposed_ to be one. "The place we're supposed to stay tonight," he asked to get his thoughts back on the mission. "Is there a time we have to be there? What if the bus is late?"

"You just go in when you get there, the keys are in the pack, no check-in required, no one will have to see your faces." he said. "I'll drop you off a short walk to the bus station, but you've already got a ticket there, and one for the second leg. If you don't remember your route briefing there's directions, but if things are late, they're refundable and you can get the next best option. I've put enough cash in there too that you should be okay if things go really awry, and well... hopefully there's everything you might need. I even threw a couple of snack bars if you get hungry."

"Thank you," Cheryl said.

"Don't thank me, _I_ think this operation is a mistake." Cheryl looked down into her lap, and Justin knew she wouldn't find it easy to speak to their driver again. If the fact that he was new and something of an authority figure wasn't enough, directly shooting her down the first time she tried to engage, even mildly, was sure to make her not want to try again. So they sat in silence, but eventually their driver muttered, loudly enough to be overheard. "Sending _kids_ on an op like this..."

"We're not kids," Justin said, although part of him felt they were, especially Cheryl, and the doubts about what they were doing began anew. 

"You are to me. but..." he shrugged, like he didn't have a choice in the matter, or maybe believed in duty over any personal misgivings. "Follow the plan and... well, odds are you'll just be turned down. But I doubt you'll be harmed."

Justin swallowed, aware he was more afraid of being turned down than even what might happen if they quit, even though it didn't make much sense. He supposed it was the uncertainty... if he _quit_ it was on his own terms, but if they simply _failed_... maybe Foster would decide that they just hadn't _tried_ hard enough. 

There was a squeeze on his hand, and he looked beside him to see Cheryl. He gave her a weak smile, was about to tell her he was fine, when his phone rang. He answered it automatically, expecting it to be Foster. "Yeah?"

"Justin... listen to me, you can't _do_ this. You can still turn around and come back and tell them it was all a mistake."

"It's _not_ a mistake, Mom. We both _want_ to do this." How did she even call? He thought Foster took her phone... then he remembered, she had an old one in her room on from a pay-as-you-go plan. Maybe it was a good thing though, he didn't like how they ended things... at a distance, it might be easier to explain, if she'd calmed down. "This is the best thing for all of us." It hurt his heart to remind Mom of this, but he added, "Without this, you lose the house..."

"_Forget_ the house, I'd rather live on the _street_ than lose both of my children."

"Mom, you're not _losing_ us. At least no more than you would anyway. This is the time for us to have adventures. Cheryl'd be going to college _anyway_." Of course, for two years Mom also not-so-subtly hinted that Cheryl might want to choose the _closest_ possible school, despite it not offering her the academic program she deserved, just so she wouldn't have to live off-campus. The concern over Cheryl's anxiety overwhelming her was something he understood, but it always bothered him anyway, undercutting her, so something made him add, "You don't get to keep us forever."

He regretted it instantly... Mom often attacked when she felt attacked, and this one was particularly vicious. "So _you_ get Cheryl, instead? Is _that_ your little adventure? She's your little sister, it's _sick_."

A frustrated sigh escaped him. They'd _told_ her that the incest thing was all a deception, but her ranting and raving at the time seemed to be confused on that topic. He'd hoped she'd have calmed down and started thinking more rationally, but apparently not. "Mom, it's not like you think..."

"Oh, please... you expect me to _believe_ that? You've _always_ been too close. And now you're running off together."

That was... how could she think that? Good thing he didn't put her on speaker phone. He sputtered, managing to get out, "We're not even going to be in the same _place_! Talk to F--" 

A second earlier, the car lurched to a stop, and before Justin could react, before he even realized the driver had pulled over, the phone was yanked out of his hands. The driver punched the hang-up button with one stubby finger, looked at Justin with murder in his eyes. "Did _nothing_ about your prepwork sink in? No conversations about this over the phone. You never know who's _listening_. I put some burner phones in your go-bag too... do _not_ use them except in an emergency, and for God's sake, _stay in character_ if you talk on them." The phone wiggled in his hand. "This one will have to go. Do _you_ have a phone on you too?" This was directed at Cheryl, who shook her head hurriedly. After Justin's phone was thoroughly turned off, he pocketed it and started driving again. "Your phones are under your mother's plan, so, cops will activate GPS to find you. That means you left your phone in Lee's car, and it helps us craft the narrative, understand?" Justin nodded mutely... it was all part of the plan, really, but he was too shaken by what his mother said to respond more than that.

_Always been too close._ What did that even _mean_? As far as he could recall, he'd _never_ treated Cheryl anything other than with appropriately brotherly affection, except of course when they were preparing for this crazy scheme, and then... well, it had to be done, right? Mom had to be imagining things.

Or had she just sensed something he'd shoved so far inside himself even he could barely see it anymore, that the reason he was always thinking of Cheryl was that there was something _twisted_ inside of him, like some kind of alien parasite. Maybe his body responded sometimes during their kisses, not just because it didn't _know_ what it was doing and who he was with, but because he _did_ and it was what he secretly wanted. Maybe he really _was_ starting to enjoy the charade too much. 

He honestly wasn't sure anymore. But he _wasn't_ lying to Mom, she had nothing to worry about. Even if there _was_ some sick desire buried inside of him, he'd never force anything on Cheryl. And far from being too close, if everything went to plan, soon they'd be farther apart than when he was in Europe. Sure, they'd might kiss a few times before then, and hold hands and otherwise make a good _show_ for the Pa-Var... but then Cheryl would be off learning wonderful new things and as for himself... well, if he was lucky, he could be out there exploring his own strange new frontiers.


	9. Point of Light

As soon as she was out of sight of the young humans, Mialin ceased the manipulated light show that provided her relatable face and body, and returned to her meditations. Most humans assumed that when not choosing to project a human face a Pa probably looked like some sort of vaguely humanoid shape, a glowing transcendental energy being, and they would be right about everything but the glowing. Instead she was almost pitch black, a three-dimensional shadow, punctuated by the occasional bright point of light, because she was now absorbing most of the ambient EM spectrum rather than selectively reflecting back. The exception of this was the necklace, which unlike the rest of her clothes was not part of her body. 

That was a tool, an interface, and in that capacity, it pulsed a coherent beam of light into her body, and received a similar one, modulated to carry information in both directions. One such exchange was a message from the local AI. Though their conversation was not in English, of course, if it were, it might have gone something like this.

"Analysis is complete. Probability of US Government involvement behind this latest refugee application is 95%, which includes identification of a plausible coercion mechanic through assistance with the mother's debt."

"So they're spies after all." Emotional content could be expressed in this beam of light with subtle patterns of amplitude shifts, easy for the AI to identify if it was happiness or anger, but in this response, Mialin's were subdued enough that it could be read as 'neutral.' 

The AI responded in kind. "It's unlikely they're _trained_ agents, given their age and history, but there is some contact with and probable direction by an agent of US Intelligence. There are also inconsistencies with the police report about incest which suggests it may have been partially manufactured."

Now there was a hint of shading, of disappointment, but only for a moment. "Too bad... but it's no surprise, really, I was pretty sure they weren't actually a couple."

The entire conversation happened in less time than a human eyeblink. The two refugee applicants hadn't even boarded the shuttle to the Ivory Tower, and were still passing down the hallway to get there.

"Should I redirect them to the outside of the Visitor's Center immediately, or would you prefer to give them a shuttle ride to waste their time before announcing we've caught on to them?" That was a tactic that frequently appealed to Pa humor, something the AI was trained to indulge. 

"Neither. Let them pass."

"I remind you, the protocol for attempted espionage is...."

"Fuck the protocol. The United States must be getting really desperate if they're throwing young, untrained sibling teams at us in the hopes one will slip by. So let's let them have this one and see what they do with it. Besides..." Here the conversation started to carry a rising pattern of excitement, even happiness. "Cheryl and Justin may not be incestuous _yet_... but I think I saw _something_ there. Buried under denial and shame what with all the taboos their toxic culture gave them, but I do believe it's there. Yes, I think a schoolship is the best place to nurture that... with minimal, careful interference, I _might_ be able to influence them towards a path that convinces them to make the lie real, or at least try screwing _once_ to see how compatible a beast with two backs they make." During the interview she'd accessed a listing of euphemisms for sex humans used and was having fun trying them out. They were particularly nonsensical converted into the language of light which only increased the amount of good feelings attached to the message. "Or it could come to nothing and the humans will learn a few secrets ahead of schedule... but what's _art_ without a little _risk_? Send a message to (untranslatable name)... I've got a new project I'm excited about. I think my creative block is over!" 

\--

The two siblings, unaware that they were now Mialin's new project, walked, hand-in-hand, through a door and into a large, softly lit room that was completely empty except for a raised platform at one side of the room that looked like some kind of sacrificial altar, or maybe a bed or chair. The light, no longer with the slight pinkish hue they'd grown almost used to, seemed to come from the walls evenly, not bright enough to be distracting but enough to eliminate all shadows and make it impossible to hide, if there were any hiding necessary. As they turned around to look at everything, searching for instruction, Cheryl jumped as she realized the door had closed behind them, soundlessly. She tugged on her brother's arm and Justin noticed, looked around again, and asked, "So what now? Do we just wait here, or...?" He left the sentence hanging. 

"The flight will take approximately five minutes." The voice came from nowhere, or everywhere, just like the light, and was gender neutral but without inflection. The two passengers shot each other a look, each confirming their awareness that they were not truly alone, despite appearances, that they couldn't talk freely about what just happened. "That is, five minutes to the tower. From there, we will launch to orbit and transfer you to a longer range craft. Your total time aboard here will be about an hour. If you have any requests I will attempt to accommodate."

Both of them dropped their bags on the floor, wondering what could be requested. "Is there a window?" Justin asked after a few seconds. 

One end of the wall, the one they were facing, turned transparent over the course of about three seconds, revealing bright day and the distinct impression of motion compared to the buildings on the far horizon. "There is _now_ a window."

"Holy shit," Justin said, and let go of his sister's hand to get closer, look down and watch the sea zooming by. "I didn't even feel us accelerate. How do you think they did that?" The elevator was slow enough that he could assume he just missed it, but this room, this shuttlecraft, had to have gone from zero to sixty, or more, without sensation. With a grin, he turned back to his sister expecting her to try to come up with some nerdy theory, or at least be excited by the mystery... and then his grin faded. She was standing where he left her, subtly trembling, with her arms crossed over her stomach as she suffered from the anxiety reaction she'd been holding back for hours. They'd done it, almost everything she wanted, more in some ways, and yet her body needed to panic anyway. 

Justin rushed back to her side. "Can we get a couch or something, please?" Material flowed up from the ground and then just suddenly solidified, or mostly solidified, into a soft-looking couch made for two, another example of Pa-Var technology that would soon become commonplace, but neither of them were more than distantly aware of that, Cheryl wasn't looking in that direction and Justin just had a thought in the corner of his mind that it was like a changeling shapeshifting effect in _Deep Space 9_. 

"I'm fine," she said, when he got close enough to touch, and he drew back, worried about doing anything she didn't want, worrying that she was only _pretending_ to be on board with the changes to their perfect plan. For her part, Cheryl now regretted reassuring her brother, because she was _not_ fine, because her body was panicking and she wanted to feel someone else, somebody she trusted, to put his arms around her... just so another body was close enough so hers could learn what the proper heartbeat pattern should be, and people who are 'fine' don't get comforted like that. Instead she sat down on the newly spawned couch, which had enough give to be comfortable to most people but she needed something with more solidity behind it to anchor herself. 

Justin took a seat next to her, ready for anything she might ask, but Cheryl couldn't find the words to... so she simply pushed her body against him, hoping he'd hold her tightly, but he wasn't ready and instead she fell sideways, her head falling into his lap. But that was okay too, she found, especially when he began stroking her hair while she looked out the window that was still in front of them. When her mouth could form words again, she said, "I'm okay," first, and then, "It's just... I just need some time. Can we just stay like _this_?"

Part of her wanted him to tell her no, to remind her things were changing and would continue to change, and that was okay too, that he'd be with her. Instead Justin, himself afraid that he'd made a mistake and hoping for any way to help make it less of a one, said, "Sure. Whatever you want." And that was almost as good. Her body still needed to work this out, and she hated being so needy, but she could count on him... and, now, it looked like she would have him close by when she needed him. Just as important, she didn't feel like he was settling for second best just for her, because he seemed to really want to go to this school too, even if just for the adventure. He'd had hopes for different adventures, sure, but joining a Pa-Var exploration team or any of the other options always seemed like a longshot, and she was both relieved and glad that he wouldn't just be waiting for her on Mars. 

It was suddenly important to her that he _knew_ that. "I'm so happy we get to do this together. I'd have missed you too much if you were light-years away."

"Yeah, same here," Justin said, although he wondered how much was true sentiment and how much she was saying just in case they were still being observed, evaluated, judged. Then decided, if that's what they were doing, he might as well say it, see how it felt. "I love you."

"I love you too, dummy," she said, like it was natural, didn't need to be said, and of course he realized it didn't, because they'd always loved each other and, he hoped, always would. They didn't often say it out loud, but neither doubted it, just doubted what, exactly, the word encompassed. 

A white wall appeared to crowd its way into the view outside, almost as though the window was closing, but it was clearly outside, and that stopped their contemplation. "Is that... is that the Ivory Tower?" Cheryl asked.

The ship's AI answered. "It is one of the structures humans refer to as such, yes. We will use it as a launch point."

"Can you..." Justin started, swallowed, then started again, "Is it possible for you to pull back and have a better look at it?" 

"It is indeed possible," it answered, and for a moment they both thought it was like one of those overly literal computers that cropped up all over _Star Trek_ and science fiction in general, and would not respond unless they actually asked it to do so, but it was smarter than that, and the view drew back, until they were just hanging over the structure, with a view of the whole thing. Up close, it looked a little less like a pure monolith... although much of it was smooth and stone-like, at this distance you could also see small projections that broke up the perfect lines and looked like they could be the basis for hatches or sensors, and the sloping top seemed to be made of an array of sharp skewers, perhaps antennae of some sort. 

"Wow, look at that..." Cheryl said, as though she was seeing the landmark for the first time, and in her mind, she was, for it was a different point of view, a different story, and the first she had seen one close up as anything other than pictures. 

Her brother smiled also, although it was less for the sight itself and the meaning behind it, both in general and for his sister, that he'd distracted her from herself. "Next view of it's going to be even _better_." She made an interrogative sound and turned over in his lap and looked up at him until he said, "Next time we see it from _orbit_."

"We probably won't be able to actually _see_..."

He ruffled her hair. 'You know what I mean."

"Yeah." Her eyes slid back to the tower. An alien structure on Earth, and soon they would be Earthlings in an alien world. "And pretty soon, the Earth, the sun... will just be one distant point of light." It choked her up a little, the thought of all they knew being on that point, and she even felt a few regrets, but she knew the regrets were phantoms, she still wanted this, so she pushed down the feelings and just said, "_Ad astra_."

"_Ad astra_," Justin repeated, and their eyes met again, and for just a moment, both knew that despite everything they were leaving behind, they were ready for whatever came next. There was a whole new frontier out there but they didn't have to face it alone. 

"We are ready to launch, when you're ready," the AI said. 

Again, their eyes met again, and Cheryl pulled herself into a seated position, feeling a little better. "You know what we have to say, right?" she asked.

Justin's eyes gleamed. "Can _I_ say it? I want to say it."

Cheryl mock-pouted. "No, I want to say it too... why should _you_ get to say it and I can't?" 

"Okay, fine... we'll _both_ say it." She nodded at the compromise, as though it wasn't predestined from the moment she suggested it. Facing the viewscreen, she let her hand find his, brushing it tentatively, and Justin took it. They each raised a finger on their free hand, waiting for the moment so they could be in synch. A squeeze of their clasped hand turned out to be the signal.

"Engage."

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While this is the last chapter of this work, it's not intended to be the end of the story. The next will be in a separate work, dealing with the pair's experiences in an alien college setting, and I hope to start posting it in January of 2020, so stay tuned.


End file.
